


Through Your Words

by Oliver__Niko



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist!Mikleo, Author!Sorey, Celebrity Crush, Fluff, For all the people out there who struggle at times with their craft, General niceness not usually written by yours truly, I hope that this helps you to stay on that path., Inspiration, Light-Hearted, M/M, Motivational, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-03-17 09:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18962194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliver__Niko/pseuds/Oliver__Niko
Summary: Sorey is a renowned LGBT author. Mikleo is an artist struggling to get noticed.Mikleo has admired Sorey's writing ever since his debut novel, his writing helping to bring Mikleo through obstacles life has thrown at him. Though he believes that he will never be on Sorey's level nor simply have the chance to meet him, their worlds connect when Sorey begins his search for an artist to illustrate his upcoming visual novel.





	1. Open Door

**Author's Note:**

> After working on this for a little while, I'm now uploading the first chapter! This is a little fic I decided to do alongside Swear on Counted Stars. I've actually had the general story idea for two whole years. Finally, it's actually being used.
> 
> As both an artist and writer, I relate strongly to a lot I have written in this story, so hopefully it provides the same feeling to others as well. I hope that you enjoy the first chapter!

Even now the young man is settling in for the night, rain is still hammering against the window. It has already been raining _all_ day, and that is only the start of his inconveniences. The rain itself is not so bad. But a driver purposely choosing to drive straight through a puddle by Mikleo most definitely is, and he had been freezing by the time he got home.

His shift had been far too busy as well. Students are currently out of education for a week, and why they seem to gather at the café he works at all at once, he really cannot know. Either way, it sure makes his feet ache a lot by the time the day is over.

And of course, he had to finish late enough to have his favourite bakery be closed. After the day he’s dealt with, something sweet would have been perfect. Instead he got soaked through to the skin by that passing car.

At least it is in the past now. Pale hands run through long, mousse brown locks, which have already long been washed. The water is simply so warm and inviting after the cold rain of early Spring. Yet soon enough, Mikleo is stepping out of the shower to begin drying himself off with a towel.

His stomach growls as he exits the bathroom. He has to hold in a sigh; sleepiness has caught up with him by now, so the last thing he wants to do is cook for himself.

“ _You can’t skip meals! It’s unhealthy!”_

 _A_ s usual, it’s imagining the motherly care of his manager, Lailah, which kicks him into gear and encourages him to put his leftovers in the oven. This is at least one sensible thing he does; cooking a larger quantity and saving the rest for later has saved him on more than one occasion where he’s not feeling his best.

As the food heats up, he walks over to the living room. Though he has an entire bookcase filled to the brim with books in here, his focus is on a single novel he has left on the coffee table. A bookmark is slotted in about a third of the way through. His fingers run delicately over the surface before he picks it up and returns to the kitchen.

Several minutes later, he is sat at the small dining table with a steaming plate in front of him. He blows down on the food on his fork, almost not noticing the taste at all as he looks down at the open page he is on.

His built-up stress slips away almost immediately as he loses himself in the story. Every single novel written by this author has caused exactly that. Each word has meaning, every scene has purpose, and it all flows together as beautifully as music. Writing is an art which this man has truly mastered. He has a charm unlike anything that Mikleo has seen before. The romances and fantasy worlds, the gripping plots and realistic, yet loveable characters … How Mikleo’s identity is captured in the most accurate and relatable way possible, and for once, he feels like he can belong.

If it’s possible to have your heart be captured over mere words on paper, then his favourite author, Sorey Shepherd, has done exactly that.

Sorey is the type of idol who Mikleo perceives as far more significant than that. He is a writer who has grown a lot in popularity over the last couple of years, becoming one of the most renowned LGBT novelists today. His work is unique, his worlds always so in depth, yet they all have that same diversity which many people, such as Mikleo, appreciate.

Mikleo fell in love with the man’s writing immediately. The former has wrote stories as well, although never with an intention to be published, and he feels as though he could never compare himself to Sorey. Perhaps most people feel that about their work. Mikleo is an artist as well, where doubts are just as prevalent. But this feels a little different.

It sounds ridiculous, the sort of fixation teenage girls have for their favourite bands, but Sorey’s writing saved him, in a sense. Which is something he could have never done for himself with his own work. Sometimes, there are stories which you do not want to create yourself. Sometimes, you want to read another’s in lieu of your own. Mikleo creates worlds through strokes of paint and escapes them in Sorey’s words.

Deciding without question that his empty plate can be attended to later on, it is pushed to the centre of the dining table. Mikleo’s legs are brought up onto the chair. Toes curl over as his attention returns to the book. Just another chapter, he says, knowing that this is not likely to be the case.

 

* * *

 

Sunshine has finally decided to greet Mikleo’s city of Ladylake. For a lot of people, this would be a blessing on a day off from work; who wouldn’t like to go out and make the most of a brighter, warmer day? As someone who adores nature and explorations, Mikleo _is_ sometimes part of this group. However, as an artist whose work is far from being his actual job, there are never enough days in the week to do everything. Sometimes needed relaxation takes a back seat when you have this much on your schedule.

His apartment is rather small, indubitably no more than the size he needs; he isn’t exactly at a point in his life which allows for extra luxuries. A study would be welcome, although his living room is still pleasant. A low budget hasn’t stopped him from decorating it with inviting, light colours, and his artistic flair is certainly helpful as well. It is still more than welcoming when it comes to doing his work.

On his lap is what is probably the most expensive item he owns; his drawing tablet. For years he worked with one without a screen, plugged into his laptop, which is certainly not all bad. But his friends had been correct in saying that getting something better would help him in both the long _and_ short term; he has to admit that it has certainly helped with quality and the speed he works at. Them pitching in with their own funds to help him is something he reluctantly accepts he can never repay.

As he is leaning back for a moment to inspect the lighting in his work, sipping a glass of water, there is a knock on the door which causes his head to turn. He places the tablet down on the sofa and water on the coffee table, before heading over to the door. His fingers attempt to neaten the far too messy bun his hair is pulled into.

Bright sunshine nearly blinds him as he opens the door. “Edna,” he says, only a little surprised, “what are you doing here?”

The small woman lets out a huff. She takes down her umbrella, which Mikleo cannot help but be amused at; there’s no way it will rain today, yet the sun is definitely not strong enough to need protection from either. He swears that she feels completely lost without one.

“Not _‘Oh Edna, how wonderful it is to see you, and to travel all the way here from Rayfalke just for_ me … _?’_ ”

Mikleo rolls his eyes. “Come in, then. Really, what brings you out here? It’s not exactly a short train ride from your village.”

“I mean, half an hour isn’t _that_ bad. Eizen got called into work though, and I was bored, so I thought I’d take a trip out here.” Edna places her umbrella by the door, slipping off the pumps on her feet. They are a dark brown, which is a usual addition to the yellows and oranges she wears; today, she has opted for a charming dress which frills at the bottom and a white cardigan thrown over it.

Adorable and innocent as usual, basically everything that Edna herself isn’t.

“So you thought you’d come bother me instead today?”

“Always.” Edna gives him a small smirk. She walks into the living room, Mikleo not even bothering to comment on how she often does move around here like she owns the place. Her eyes fall down on the tablet which Mikleo has left on the couch. “Never a day off for you, is it?”

Mikleo smiles out of amusement. “Days off? I forgot what those are. Is it looking all right?”

“So far, yeah. A bit more shadow on the skin here, I’d say,” she says as she points to the character’s left arm, “but you were probably going to get to that, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m not done yet.” He pauses for a moment, before he adds, “It’s truly okay? I’ve done a lot of studies lately, and this is the first time I’m trying to implement it all together.”

“I mean, if it sucked, I’d just tell you. It’s great, really.”

“I — yeah, you would. Thanks.”

She simply nods, watching as Mikleo sits down, putting the tablet back on his lap. He zooms into one part, frowning before he begins sharpening an edge. She simply watches for a moment before she says, “You’re feeling insecure about it again, aren’t you?”

“I guess so,” he says. He doesn’t stop as he thinks of his answer — the two often sit together like this — yet his hand does slow slightly. “I think I’m in one of those stages again where my knowledge and critical thinking is further than my actual skill.”

“That’s not a bad thing. It means you have a clearer goal in mind, rather than repeatedly make the same mistakes.”

Mikleo hums. This response causes Edna to sigh and add, “Numbers aren’t everything, you know. It’s hard to get noticed. Like, _really_ hard. Not getting much attention doesn’t mean you’re bad. People just haven’t found you yet.”

“But if they _will_ ever find me is the question,” Mikleo answers. His eyebrow furrows, now simply playing with the pen as opposed to painting anything. “Sometimes I think I’m just not cut out for this stuff. Saying do this for yourself is all well and good, and it helps to an extent. But with how much I’ve worked, and how much time I put into this, I just …”

“Want that validation.”

Mikleo nods. “I don’t think people realise how much goes into honing a craft, and how much feedback is important. As soon as I get into a rut like this, I find it difficult to get any motivation.”

“It’s understandable. I mean, Eizen is _great_ at supporting you, fellow art nerd and all. But it’s normal to want more.” Edna leans against the back of the sofa, watching Mikleo’s movements across the tablet. “I think you could do with an actual break today, too. I know you like working hard and hate not being productive, but getting out and making sure you don’t drop dead from stress is important too, you know.”

“I suppose,” he admits slowly. “I’ve been working for a while already.”

“Then come on, let’s go get lunch. You’re paying though.”

Mikleo lets out a sigh, now switching off the tablet after saving his work. “You offer to take _me_ out for lunch, yet still don’t want to pay yourself?”

“Fine, we’ll just go halves.”

“Deal.”

Mikleo proceeds to remove his glasses and places them on the table. He has to hold in another sigh when he notices Edna’s not-so-hidden smirk. “Before you say anything, _yes,_ I do need them for work now.”

“Are you sure?” she says. “Because I remember a certain someone who used to wear them for the aesthetic and nothing more.”

He lets out a groan. “I was _fifteen,_ Edna. It was nine years ago already.”

“Guess you jinxed yourself into needing them.”

“Or you’re a witch who cursed me. Come on, let’s get going.”

Edna thankfully decides to drop the subject. Though really, even if Mikleo can’t be fully sure, he wonders if Edna is going about her usual teasing to make him feel better. You’d expect Edna’s remarks and attitude to only _add_ to stress, and it certainly does sometimes. But other times, it does actually help. It’s difficult to focus on insecurities when all you can hear is this irritating friend of yours.

Irritating or not, Mikleo is in higher spirits already has the two are heading outside, sun beaming down onto them.

 

* * *

 

Edna has always had a skill for knowing exactly when Mikleo is overworked and needs time away to breathe. It probably helps that he is rather transparent, however he and Edna have been friends for years already. At three years older, she is exactly like an older sister to him. She knows him better than even those by blood.

This is how a simple lunch has turned into him staying over at her home, and what had supposed to been just the two of them turning into Eizen and Zaveid, living right next door, coming over as well.

Wasn’t Mikleo supposed to be working?

“Loosen up, Mickey-Boy!” Zaveid exclaims, throwing an arm around Mikleo, who is sat next to him on the sofa. “We all know that you’re a hard-working guy, but you need time for relaxation as well, you know?”

“Time to recuperate and look after yourself is all part of productivity as well,” Eizen says. He is leaning against the door-frame with his phone in hand, Edna peering over at the screen.

“I want the Hawaiian,” she says. “Meebo?”

“Uh, just cheese and tomato for me.”

“Boring.”

“Usual for me, babe,” says Zaveid, finally removing his arm from Mikleo in order to take a gulp from a beer can.

“I hope you’re talking to me there and not my little sister.” A few moments later, Eizen adds, “Right, there we go. Should be here in forty minutes.”

“How much do you want me to send over?” Mikleo asks, already opening his phone, but Eizen raises his hand.

“It’s fine, it’s my treat this time around. Except for Zaveid; you’re paying up.”

“Oh man, you’re awful!” Zaveid exclaims, yet regardless of his words, still grins and presses a kiss to Eizen’s cheek as he sits down onto the sofa. Edna, much similar to Mikleo, has an impressive talent for slotting into small spaces; she ends up perching on Eizen’s lap and rests her legs on Zaveid’s. Her eyes fall on Mikleo, who has still not looked up from his phone.

“Someone’s not being sociable today,” she says, smirking as her words make him jump slightly.

“S-Sorry, I just have Sorey on post notifications, and he just Tweeted something.”

“I swear he’s in love with that guy,” Zaveid grins, now watching Mikleo as well, who is opening up the app right this second to read whatever Sorey has posted.

“No doubt about it,” says Eizen. “Always reading his books, paying attention to his social media …”

“… Finds him attractive, hasn’t met him out of nerves despite all the signings …” Edna continues. “And now he is pretending to ignore us because he’s embarrassed. Meebo … Meeeebooo …”

“Mm?” he simply hums. The distraction is genuine, causing the other three to glance at each other.

“What has caught _your_ eye?” Eizen asks.

“Another shirtless pic, maybe?” Zaveid says, trying to lean over to look at Mikleo’s screen, raising an eyebrow when the other is quick to bring his phone to his chest.

“It’s nothing,” he says, a little too quickly.

“Sure it is,” says Edna, making Zaveid yelp as she carelessly digs her knees into him to reach over for Mikleo’s phone. She manages to snatch it out of his hand before sliding off the couch.

“Hey, Edna!” Mikleo exclaims, jumping up himself. He almost stumbles over the coffee table that Edna is circling around, keeping her distance so she can read the screen.

“‘ _As everyone knows, I’ve been talking about how I’d love to try something new and create a visual novel one day, but also have the drawing skills of a toddler with crayons. I’ve been questioning about how I can go about finding the right person.’”_

Edna spins away from Mikleo trying to grab his phone back, who finally accepts defeat and simply stands to one side, folding his arms as though trying to make himself smaller.

“ _I’ve decided that I want to give this chance to LGBT artists out there, particularly those who_ _are_ _talented yet not receiving the attention they deserve, in order to support those who deserve to be in the spotlight._

“ _I understand what it’s like to struggle, and I want to help those who are. More details, artist criteria and the application process can be found on my website! I can’t wait to see the talent of those who apply!’”_

“ _Dude!_ ” Zaveid roars joyfully, leaping to his feet. “This is it! You can find your exposure _and_ meet your favourite idol all in one!”

“It’s definitely an amazing opportunity,” says Eizen.

“It might be a three in one deal and you can get yourself a man at the same time,” Edna says, handing Mikleo his phone back at last. She grows puzzled over how unlike she, Eizen and Zaveid, Mikleo’s face bears anything but happiness.

Before she can question it aloud, he has already said, “I’m not applying.”

“ _What?!”_ says Zaveid. “But why?”

“Because … because Sorey is one of the best in this area of literature, if not _the_ best. And I’m just … me.” His fingers run over the back of his phone absent-mindedly, his eyebrows furrowing. “I can’t live up to that level of standards. I can’t even get commissioned work much now, so to expect a _job_ like this —”

“Meebo, you’d be an idiot not to try,” says Edna bluntly.

“What Edna means is that you don’t want to waste this chance,” Eizen adds, now getting to his own feet. He walks over to Mikleo, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. “It’s not everyday that something like this happens. I’m sure that you’d regret not going for this, wouldn’t you?”

Mikleo hesitates, glancing up at Eizen before he looks back down again. “I guess so, but I just — I don’t feel like I’m good enough to even be considered.”

“I mean, we all personally think you’re incredible,” says Zaveid.

“And you certainly have what it takes,” says Eizen. “But tell you what. Let’s look at the application and at least _see_ the criteria, all right? There’s no use in giving up on this before you’ve even seen what they’re after. Does that sound fair to you?”

Mikleo opens his mouth to speak, likely to say no instantly, but he stops himself. The rational side of him agrees with what Eizen is saying. Despite all of his insecurities and troubles, he still knows that he would regret not taking this chance immensely.

No matter what your goals are in life, if you do not take risks in order to move forward, you’re never going to get to the place you want to be. You have to make that effort and do so with confidence.

Even if Mikleo feels as though that confidence doesn’t exist, he also knows that he would hate himself for giving up so soon.

“All right, I agree,” he says eventually, Zaveid immediately letting out a small cheer. “Let’s at least have a look.”

Eizen smiles, Mikleo grumbling when a large hand ruffles his hair. “That’s it.”

The four continue to sit back down where they were before. Only this time, because Mikleo’s nerves stretch as far as him barely being able to open the application document, Eizen has settled himself in the middle. Mikleo remains on the right, taking the occasional glance.

It surely is incredible how much he can recognise anything Sorey has typed from even just a second of inspection. He can always tell the difference between something one of his colleagues has written and Sorey himself.

“Right, so there’s the usual stuff, like your name, date of birth, all of that,” Eizen says, scrolling through. Zaveid, his arm wrapped around Eizen, peers over at the screen, Edna doing the same from her returned spot on Eizen’s lap.

“Hey, it says here that even though they have a spot here for experience, they want to see your portfolio above all else,” says Zaveid. Eizen nods, his scrolling coming to a stop.

“That seems to be becoming all the more common. So long as you can show knowledge of character design and have clear skill, they’ll still consider you, because it’s not always worth potentially missing out on a talented individual just because they don’t have a degree.”

“And you have all of that,” Edna adds. Mikleo hums, resting his chin on his knees.

“I _have_ always felt like not being able to finish my degree would ruin me in the long run,” he says slowly. How he never managed to actually finish education, despite how intelligent he has always been, has always been one of his biggest insecurities.

“So let’s see what else there is here,” says Eizen, scrolling further down. He pauses for a moment to read through, before with a smile, says, “Mikleo, this is honestly perfect for you. Sorey is planning on writing another book based in a fantasy setting, and wants to see an art style which represents this. Preferably more detailed and mature, able to draw scenes that look straight out of a fairytale …”

“I mean, there are plenty of fantasy artists out there,” he answers.

“Maybe so. But no artist is the same, and _your_ work in particular might be what they’re looking for.”

“And look there!” Zaveid says, noticing a sentence they missed. “Because Sorey doesn’t want to potentially miss out on great talent simply because they live too far, interviews can be done over the phone or on Skype.”

“Meebo has no excuse now,” says Edna.

Zaveid grins, adding, “Yup. No bumbling and blushing because you’re in front of the love of your life, probably no staring at his strong arms and wondering how great they’d be to hold you at night —”

“All right, all right, I get the picture,” Mikleo interrupts quickly, feeling his face heat up. “Fine. I’ll apply if that’s what you want. But if I end up getting rejected now …”

“Don’t go into this convinced that’ll happen,” Eizen says immediately. “That’d show right through your application, trust me. Don’t think about the outcome and simply focus on showing the best of yourself. Besides, if you _did_ get rejected, what is the worse that would happen?”

“I mean, it’d be awful on my confidence,” Mikleo answers, hating how much he knows that rejection would truly harm him. After all, rejection is something he fears even after experiencing it so much. He cannot spring back into action like others can.

“Maybe so. But one rejection doesn’t have to stop you. It might sting for a while, but you’ll move on. If you _don’t_ apply, however? That’ll be with you for the rest of your life. You’ll always look back and be disappointed in yourself for not even trying.”

Mikleo swallows, unable to stop himself from thinking back to all the other times this has been the case. It’s mostly the little things. Not going for other job opportunities due to him thinking that he simply doesn’t have the talent for it. Choosing to not defend himself as much as he should when the uncle he has lost contact with tried to stop him from going down this path. Other moments, where he has let himself fall victim to his own emotions, been too sensitive, took far too long to cut out those who have been toxic to him on his journey.

But this is far from something tiny. He has never had something like this be in front of him before. He knows he shouldn’t feel hopeful, for there will likely be thousands of others applying as well. But when he imagines working with his favourite author, being able to be part of this new world through his _own_ creations, not just by reading it …

“I’m doing it,” he says, his voice now far firmer than before. “I’d hate myself if I didn’t. So I might as well just go for it, right?”

“That’s the spirit!” Zaveid exclaims. “Trust in the fellow art nerd to be the one to convince you.”

Eizen smiles. “Of course. I’d hate it as much as Mikleo if he didn’t go for this.”

“Apply as soon as we’re done with pizza,” she says, the doorbell ringing as she speaks. Mikleo chuckles and nods.

“Sure, sure. Food first.”

As the four bring in their food and prepare drinks, arguing lightly over what show to put on TV, Mikleo realises that his laughter is far lighter than it has been for a while.

Even if it all goes wrong, at least he knows that he took that step forward, the one which he usually never goes through with. No matter the result, he is sure that it will help him in the long run. He simply needs to build that strength now.

 


	2. Newfound Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After support and encouragement from his friends, Mikleo has taken the leap in applying for the artist position of his idol's visual novel.
> 
> Though his insecurities may convince him otherwise, there are high hopes on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the love on the first chapter, I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it so far!
> 
> This will be the longest chapter in this fic; I would have split it up somewhere but it was awkward finding a spot, and I also didn't want to increase the amount of chapters this story is going to have; it's already gone up from four to six!
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention that though this story will be from Mikleo's perspective most of all, it will switch to Sorey too. For now, we're still in Mikleo's perspective. Hope you enjoy!

Side-step to the left, careful eye on the liquid swirling in that glass there, edging around the table … How is his arm already feeling that ache when he has not even had his lunch break yet? Despite how his hand seems to want to do everything it can to tremble underneath the weight, he forces it to remain still regardless.

Holding in a sigh of relief, Mikleo smiles as he he begins to put down the plates balancing on his forearms. “Enjoy your meal,” he says to the family, impressing himself by how he manages to not sound breathless. He receives a few words of gratitude, and after inclining his head politely, he is already making his way over to a couple sitting at a table, almost the moment he sees the man’s arm raise.

“Good afternoon,” Mikleo greets, whipping out a black notepad and pen from his shirt pocket. “Are you ready to order?”

They say yes, yet regardless, there seems to be a little confusion and mixing up on what this man’s girlfriend would like. _“I’m not hungry …”_ she says one second, seeming annoyed when her boyfriend is about to not order anything, with Mikleo painfully smiling all the while and wishing terribly that they would hurry up. If not for Mikleo and how busy it obviously is in here, then at least for themselves and the fact that they would probably not want to be here all day.

“… And a Diet Coke,” the man finishes at last. Once again holding in a sigh, Mikleo nods, tearing the piece of paper from the pad.

“There may be a small wait as we are currently busy, however your food will be with you as soon as possible,” says Mikleo, hurrying off the moment that it looks like this will be complained about also.

He returns to the kitchens, sticking the piece of paper up for the chefs. He barely has time to breathe before a cloth is landing in his chest. His hand manages to keep it close before it falls to the floor.

“Please clean up tables eleven and twelve for us!” a colleague calls.

“On it,” says Mikleo, receiving a thumbs up in response. Immediately, Mikleo is on his way to right where he has to be ― if anything, this gives him a moment to breathe, although not properly relax when there is currently a crying baby on table thirteen. The mother is trying to soothe him with carrot sticks. Really, that is probably only making the baby cry more.

A deep breath is exhaled once table twelve is presentable again. He glances around to see if there is anything else to attend to and, when seeing that there is currently someone else picking up a family’s plates, heads back to the kitchen in order to soak the cloth through.

“Good work so far today, Mikleo.” He turns his head to the source of the calm, female voice; Lailah, a tall woman with her long, thick hair tied securely into a braid. She is giving him a smile which seems both comforting and also sympathetic. “You can take your break now.”

“Are you sure? It’s pretty busy out there.”

Lailah nods. “I think the usual lunchtime influx has settled down, now. I was going to take mine as well.”

The words cause Mikleo to agree. After all, among all the staff he works with, it’s his manager most of all who he enjoys the company of. The two gather leftovers left for staff ― a perk of working for a local business rather than corporation ― and head to a quieter, smaller room in order to settle down.

Lailah lets out a wondrous sigh as she settles down on the small sofa. She leans back, saying, “Goodness, for such a small restaurant, you wouldn’t think it could get so packed in here! Even after being the manager for a year, it still surprises me even now.”

“It’s definitely popular here.” Mikleo swirls the stir fry in the bowl on his lap, lifting it up and blowing on it. “Do you think the owner might choose to expand?” he asks before popping the food into his mouth.

Lailah hums in thought, lightly tapping her fork against her own bowl. “I definitely think that this place has the potential. However, I also think that she doesn’t exactly want to lose that specialness we have over this single, cherished restaurant.”

“I definitely understand that. I love it here myself.”

Lailah smiles, mouth closed from being full with food; she swallows, saying, “I can tell. However, I understand that you might be leaving us one of these days … The pay for that work would do you well for a while, wouldn’t it?”

She lets out a laugh when Mikleo looks at her with surprise, almost choking on his food. He manages to swallow without choking, yet only plays with the food in his bowl for a moment as opposed to replying.

“Well … I think I would have to quit if I got it. But there’s very little chance I’ll get it at all.”

“There is still that chance, right?” says Lailah, eating another mouthful. “Have you applied yet?”

Mikleo shakes his head, still swirling noodles around with his fork. “I will be, don’t worry. I genuinely think Eizen might kill me if I don’t. However, it’s a huge thing, and I need to take my time rather than rush the application. I’m making sure my portfolio is the best it can be first, and we’re working on answers to potential questions I might end up getting.”

“Yes, that is definitely a good idea. Best to let yourself be prepared. However,” the light and positive tone catches Mikleo’s attention, making his movements stop as he looks at her, “I remember how well you did in your interview here. Yes, I could sense your anxiety, and this did come through here and there. But you also showed confidence and knowledge of our establishment and your answers were honestly spectacular. That is only for a simple job as a waiter … For something you are well and truly passionate about, surely those answers you give will truly come from your heart?”

The words stun Mikleo into a silence. This is always how Lailah has been. To her, putting words together and knowing what to say in order to boost one’s spirits has always come naturally. She says things like this as though she barely has to think about it.

Just like her encouragement, she too speaks from the heart, and Mikleo finds that joy has filled his chest as her kindness truly sinks in.

“Thank you, Lailah,” he manages to eventually say. “Truly. I think no matter what, I’m going to be going into any interviews as a nervous wreck. But this does make me feel better. They say do what you love, right?”

She nods, her pale hand squeezing Mikleo’s lower thigh. “Exactly. And the fact that you will be there in that interview, reaching for something you adore, will show. I know that your struggles and determination will make you outshine the others.”

“I ― I really don’t know what to say,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as a hint of a blush finds his face. Lailah giggles softly.

“I know that means you thank me. Come on, we should get back to work now.”

He nods, finding that his mind drifts as he follows her out of the room. Until she mentioned it, he has not actually thought about what would happen if he got this job. Well, of course he has in the sense that his name would finally be out there, and more importantly to him, he’d meet his idol. But finances … He truly would be able to quit his job.

For likely the first time since he had to come out into the world and fend for himself, he would be comfortable. But that is only if everything went according to plan, and throughout all of his life, that is still yet to happen once.

 

 

* * *

 

When you are both sensible and also insecure and anxious at the same time, over-thinking is a persistent trait. You want to make sure that you get _everything_ right. Mistakes might be allowed in life, however you wish to avoid them as much as possible. Especially if you also so happen to be a perfectionist.

That is probably why Eizen is currently trying his best not to groan as Mikleo rereads his application for the tenth time.

“I’m fairly sure you haven’t typed your address out wrong by now,” says Eizen. It’s probably Mikleo’s fault that Eizen, Edna and Zaveid are hyper-focused on that; he has made the mistake of saying he’s scared of having errors _anywhere_ and now neither will let Mikleo move on from it.

Eizen has _definitely_ been influenced by his boyfriend and little sister.

“I’m just making sure my answers are fine,” says Mikleo as he scans through, wondering if he needs to change his wording … again. “I mean, I know that they’ll be asking more in the interview, but I won’t even get this considered if it’s not good enough.”

“Just watching your worrying is exhausting,” says Edna, nibbling on a butter cookie.

“You’ve got that right,” Zaveid agrees. “Any second now I’m going to take that laptop from you and just press submit.”

“You will _not,”_ says Mikleo, bringing his laptop closer. Truly though, he knows that he is over-worrying as always. At this point, there is nothing else to change, and he is bound to ruin the already perfected answers if he tries to add anything more. He inhales deeply, almost wanting to close his eyes as he holds his cursor over _submit._ “All right.”

“Doing it?” says Eizen, leaning over. Zaveid and Edna pop over to peer at the screen too.

“Better now than ever.”

He has never realised that simply clicking on something could be this difficult. But regardless, he does so anyway, holding his breath as he finally submits the application. Zaveid lets out a small cheer, as Mikleo exhales, body visibly relaxing and slouching down on the couch.

“See?” says Eizen, patting Mikleo’s shoulder. “Feels better now you’ve done it, doesn’t it?”

“A little,” he says. _‘A lot,’_ he adds in his mind, wishing he had done that sooner rather than have it play on his mind so much.

“There we are, Mickey-boy!” Zaveid exclaims, Mikleo grumbling as a large dark hand ruffles his hair. “You’re done! Try not to have a dozen panic attacks between now and when you hear from them.”

“When _are_ you going to hear from them?” asks Edna.

“They’ve been holding interviews during the application process, so they said they should be pretty fast with all this,” he says. “Obviously though they need to take time to interview those who applied later in the application period, send out rejection emails after it’s over and then decide between those they’ve interviewed. They’re aiming for about a month from now, maybe sooner if they have someone who stands out to them.”

“It’s pretty big though, isn’t it?” says Zaveid. “Like, this is the guy’s first visual novel and all. Wants to make sure he gets it right and all that.”

Eizen nods. “As an author, he is also a master of an art form, so picking that perfect artist for what he envisions is important. His members of staff will be the ones interviewing, sure. But when it gets down to it, Sorey is the one who knows what is perfect for _his_ writing. It all comes down to him, in the end.”

“No pressure, right?” says Edna. “Having to impress your idol and all.”

Mikleo is rather tempted to reach over and shove her for adding to his anxiety, because of course this thought has repeatedly come to his mind. He might fear rejection, yet if it is from a regular employer, he thinks he could move on after initial loss of confidence. However, here he has to impress someone who has done the exact same for him. This isn’t simply a job opportunity he could move on from.

However … the more time moves on with this, the more that this seems to be a motivation for Mikleo. His anxieties remain. Though now, they are not on their own; they combine with the desire to do all he can and to achieve the best possible result from all of this. His determination and competitiveness to do better than all the other applicants push aside uncertainty.

He realises that he yearns to enchant Sorey in the same way that he has enchanted Mikleo through his words.

 

* * *

 

Originally, he decided that he would keep his plans to apply to himself and his friends rather than mention this publicly online. He hates the thought of disappointing others who believe in him as much as doing so to himself. However, due to a number of his pieces declaring that they are inspired by Sorey’s writing and so making it obvious that he is an immense fan, he feels as though keeping this from them would be wrong in a sense.

His following is not at all large. One of his largest insecurities in his work stems from the struggle to gain a reputation; sometimes, no matter how polished you may be, it can be hard for others to stumble across your work. Yet having a smaller size in fans often makes the support you _do_ receive even more appreciated. And despite how his mention of applying is rather brief and casual, the fans which know him rather well could see through this carefree attitude and how much it means to him.

‘ _I know how much this means to you! My best wishes for it all to go well☺’_

‘ _I was wondering if you’d apply. Your style is PERFECT for the job, they’d be mad to not accept you!’_

‘ _A collaboration between you and Sorey Shepherd … It’s a dream come true ♥’_

One might believe that some of the comments that Mikleo have received have bias roots. Yet even Mikleo, with all of his troubles with believing in himself, can see how all of this is genuine. No one sounds as though they are only encouraging Mikleo to seem friendly. Their words come from their hearts and their true judgement that he will be successful.

Sometimes you don’t need to hear a thousand people give you their congrats. Earnest comments from a select few can do far more for your heart.

It is now the afternoon a few days after he sent the application. He breathes out as he leans against a wall in the staff room, grateful that the day could be a lot busy. This always allows his mind to drift. Now, his thumb hovers over his contact list, eyes repeatedly reading the name _‘Michael.’_

Some time has already passed since they last spoke. Contacting him now over a job he might not even get seems as though he is jumping the gun far too quickly. Mikleo’s lips purse, his thumb scrolling the bar up and down, before his mind is settled and he closes the app. Perhaps if he actually gets the job at all.

He is just about to lock the screen and return the phone to his pocket when an email notification pops up.

His heart immediately skips a beat. Do they send out rejections so quickly? He imagines Sorey’s assistant taking one look at Mikleo’s portfolio, shaking their head and not even contemplating the possibility. The thought makes him wish for the ground to swallow him whole this instant.

Perhaps he should put his phone away and open it after work … No, there’s no way he can do that. Part of him might be desperate to put off opening that email as long as possible, but he will not be able to tear his mind from it until he’s read it. He’ll do it now before his break ends.

His thumb hovers over the email for a good few seconds as he struggles to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he presses it, opening them to read the following words:

 

‘ _Dear Mikleo Rulay,_

 

_As a result of your application for the position of concept artist and illustrator, we would like you to attend an interview on April 20, at 10am. Due to allowing people from all over the world to enter_

_and the distance between yourself and our office, we will accept your request for a video interview. Please note that this means you consent to this interview being recorded for the decision process and for future training._

_You will have an interview with Mr Shepherd’s assistant, Rose Wilk, which will last for approximately 45 minutes. You will be required to show proof of identification, such as a driver’s licence or passport._

_Please contact us via the telephone number or email in the footnote of this email should you need to arrange another time or date._

_We look forward to seeing you._

 

_Best regards,_

_Alisha Diphda’_

 

All Mikleo can do is stare. His eyebrows raise and curve, eyes widen and mouth opens to all show his physical state of surprise, yet it takes time for his brain and emotions to channel the same reaction. He cannot stop his hands from shaking.

He knows it is only an interview. The reason _why_ they give interviews in the first place is to dwindle down potential candidates. And yet … the interview itself still means something. He wouldn’t have got it at all if there wasn’t _some_ chance, if there truly had not been any potential in what he showed them.

It’s a step closer to success that he never imagined he would have at all.

“Mikleo? Mikleo, are you all right?”

“Huh?” he says, blinking a few times as he looks up, finding that Lailah is stood in the doorway. He hadn’t heard the door open at all. “O-Oh yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I’ll be right there.”

Lailah seems to be bothered very little by Mikleo taking his time in this room. She walks over, appearing curious. “You seem joyful, like you’re about to burst from excitement any moment. Receive any good news?”

There is a knowing tone to her voice, as though she is fully aware of what the answer will be. Mikleo cannot help but be amused. He presses the back of his hand to his cheek — which is warm to touch, seemingly flushed from happiness — and he realises that despite how well he can hide misery, he most certainly is more transparent with anything positive.

“I’ve been invited for an interview,” he says, naturally not needing to say what for. Lailah’s eyes light up immediately. He is startled when he is taken into a hug, although makes sure to return it.

“That’s wonderful, Mikleo! I knew you could do it!”

“I’ve not done anything yet. I still need to actually get _through_ the interview first.” He smiles at her regardless once their hug ends, feeling hopeful despite his words. “But it’s definitely far better than not even being considered. I was worried that I wouldn’t even get a chance at all.”

“You’re always proving to yourself that you can do so much more than you believe,” she says. He rubs the back of his neck a little shyly from her words. He always feels awkward when praising himself. With perfectionism ruling his life for years and a constant strive to do better, that what he does is never quite enough, it can be difficult for him to accept that sometimes, _yes,_ he is in fact worthy.

Even he can see now, however, that his hard work is appreciated and has not gone to waste. And despite how much nerves are gripping at his chest, he also finds himself less anxious than ever simultaneously, with a newfound excitement and hope he had not experienced previously.

They’ve given him a chance. Not everyone in his life has done that, so he cannot put into words how grateful he is for that.

 

* * *

 

All of Mikleo’s supporters, both those he knows personally and those who simply consume his content, are naturally ecstatic for Mikleo.

There is little that is left to be done for the interview. Although in the several days leading to it, Eizen and Mikleo can be found a number of times practising together. Of course, no one can be completely certain about everything they will ask, but they can still have a rough idea. Preparation for what is likely to be said is better than none.

Mikleo is also glad that it isn’t Sorey himself taking the interviews. This job means more to Mikleo than simply meeting his idol; he truly wants to collaborate with an amazing writer, regardless of who they are, and has wanted work in this field for a long time. But of course, he cannot deny that he would likely end up starstruck if he was to speak to Sorey for the interview, and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances by acting like a starry-eyed fan who only cares about meeting someone famous.

So he is well prepared and as determined as always, yet as that day draws closer, his nerves return with greater intensity. His anxiety tries to tell him that he will mess everything up in this interview. Initially, it drops his confidence, before he realises that he cannot listen to a mind which wants to be the thing which ruins this chance. Yet no amount of realising can stop how insomnia keeps him awake the night before and leaves him sleep deprived in the morning.

‘ _I’ll be fine,’_ he says, dabbing concealer underneath his eyes as his last step to looking as though he’s actually alive. _‘It’s not like I haven’t done important stuff on little sleep before.’_

Caffeine and a good breakfast in his body, he has his tiredness fairly under control at the very least. He breathes out deeply, glancing at the time on his phone and feeling thankful that the interview is in the morning. The earlier it is, the less he is waiting around letting anxiety play on his mind again.

Fifteen minutes before the interview will take place, he has loaded up his laptop. He nervously fixes the turquoise tie resting on a white shirt, wondering if it is too bright, before realising that the person interviewing him would have to be awfully strict to reject him because of the colour of his tie.

The minutes of waiting are tantamount to hours, but eventually, he is sitting bolt upright when he receives a notification for an invitation. He breathes out deeply as he listens to the beating of his heart. His finger is then accepting the video call, and he paints a smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he says. “I’m Mikleo Rulay. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“ _Nice to meet you! I’m Rose Wilk, just gonna ask you some questions.”_

Her voice immediately catches him off guard. He has been expecting some sort of sophisticated, formal person, yet already, Rose is the complete opposite. Her hand keeps her red hair behind her ear as she looks down at a sheet of paper in her other hand.

“ _Right, first of all, I need to ask you for your date of birth, address and proof of identification, then we can start.”_

“Ah, of course …”

He gives her the details, Rose nodding as she confirms each statement. _“There we are! Okay, just to confirm, you’re fine with this being recorded aren’t you? It’s for Sorey to make his decisions and also_ _as training for anyone he might hire.”_

“That’s absolutely fine,” he says, his heart stopping for a moment when he realises that Sorey will be watching all of this, but he is quick to push the thought away to focus on the job at hand.

“ _Great! Okay, so basically in this interview, we’ll be going in depth about what you gave us, ask more about your goals and aspirations, plus some other stuff to get to know you better.”_ Rose taps her pile of paper on the table in front of her to neaten them up, glancing down at them for a moment before she asks, _“So first of all, what made you wish to apply for this position?”_

Mikleo cannot help but smile a little; this question had been bound to come up sooner or later, and though he is certain that he would have answered it perfectly fine even without his practising with Eizen, the fact that he has answered this a number of times already makes him feel confident in what he will say.

“I have admired Shepherd’s work for some time,” he begins. “As a person in the same community, I truly feel at home in his work and have always known that should he wish to work with an artist, I would fit that criteria perfectly. I’ve always been passionate about creating work for the community as well, after all, and as my portfolio has shown, I specifically love creating artwork set in a fantasy world. I knew when seeing Sorey open this opportunity that I would be suitable for collaborating with him.”

The smile that he receives from Rose is encouraging; he wants to be honest, yet also not seem like he is in this purely for the thrill of working with an idol of his, which is far from the truth. _“I like that for sure,”_ she says. _“You sound confident. See, obviously you’re going to be asked about this in_ any _interview, but we have to make sure that no one is doing this just for fame.”_

“I’m far from doing this for that,” says Mikleo. “It would be a lie to say that Shepherd’s work hasn’t truly spoken out to me and holds a special place in my heart, but art is still my one true passion. It’s a task that I know I’m suitable for.”

“ _The fact that you’re a clear fan yet also feel mostly passionate about your work itself is a good sign. Means you see this as more than just a job opportunity, yet you’ll take it seriously and like any other work as well.”_

As Rose writes something down as she says this, true confidence ― rather than that which he has trained himself to seem like he has ― grows in his chest. He wouldn’t have expected positive results to this degree right from the beginning.

“ _So from your work, we can see that you’re talented. Obviously, or you wouldn’t be here! But skill doesn’t always mean efficient. You can paint the Mona Lisa but if you’re really slow and can’t keep up, then you’re not suitable. So how well do you think that you handle time management? Say if we require one illustration for you per at least a fortnight, could you handle it?”_

Mikleo nods. “Definitely. To achieve the quality and detail of my work, I do need a fair bit of time and patience to get it done. However, I am also a fast worker simultaneously and know how to sufficiently use my time. I’ll also be able to quit my part time job with the pay that is stated, and so will have a lot of time on my hands to keep up with deadlines.”

Nodding as Mikleo speaks, Rose writes this down also. The hint of smile on her face is undeniable. _“All right, awesome. Now, another thing is confidence and expectations of yourself. How do_ you _personally feel about your work? Obviously if you’ve applied, you must have some level of confidence, but do you think it’s enough to give out there to the world alongside Sorey’s writing? And do you think that there are flaws in your work?”_

This is the type of question that would cause Mikleo more anxiety than anything else. He, after all, has shown insecurities and a lack of confidence time and time again. Deep down, he knows his skills are more than worthy ― as Rose said, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t ― but how deep _is_ this, exactly?

It varies, he realises. Anxiety is an unpredictable part of one’s mind. One day, you can be up in the clouds, happy with everything you create and confident that yes, one day, it _will_ take you some place far. But other days can be the opposite. Your eye starts to pick out every little flaw, which might not even _be_ a flaw to others viewing your work. You believe your time has been wasted and your journey will reach nowhere.

It is the unfortunate truth of most creators that you will never appreciate your work and efforts every single day. That yes, sometimes you _will_ be harsh on yourself, that you will look at what you do and want to rip it up or delete everything.

That is why Mikleo decides to be honest, because if he cannot lay out his emotions and his true goals in an interview, he has no right to be working alongside someone who has pushed through all that to be successful.

“I know that I have polished my skills and have truly pushed myself to the limit,” he begins. “No one is born with perfected talent. Some may pick it up easier than others; I for one wasn’t like that. It took me a long time to improve in what I do. And even now, like many creators, I do have times where I lose confidence and question my abilities.

“But I know that I _do_ have talent. If I felt as though I had no potential at all and that this road was pointless for me, I would have never pushed for as long as I have. I would have given up ages ago. I _know_ that there are flaws somewhere in my work, because when you’re on a road like this, you never quite reach the end. You keep going and you never stop improving. And I know that all that time I’ve put into this has made everything worth it, that my skills are truly good enough to do all this.”

Mikleo laughs lightly, as much as he tried to stop himself from doing so, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Gosh, I really did go on a ramble there, didn’t I?”

“ _Hey I’m used to it. I work for a writer, remember?”_ Rose questions, grinning when this earns her another chuckle from Mikleo. _“But you’re not rambling anyway. What I’m after here is someone confident in their answers who have a lot to say, and are clearly well in the know about what they do. So don’t worry; it’d only be classed as a ramble if you were saying nonsense, which is_ far _from the truth!”_

Feeling his chest grow warm, Mikleo says, “Thank you.” He would adore to add how much he appreciates having Rose interview him, for her kind demeanour and enthusiastic tone is truly helping to put him at ease, but he decides against it.

“ _Of course! Anything to stop you from being nervous. Right, sort of linking to what you said … How about goals? Short term, long term?”_

“I definitely have a number of them,” he says. “Short term … Honestly, to simply get my foot in the door for the first time, for I’ve not had much luck with this so far. Long term … Well, that’s where it becomes a little less crystal clear. I mean, I know that I want to see success with my work. Not for money or fame or anything like that, but simply because I truly adore what I do. I want to make a living off what I do best and what I am the most passionate about. I think I’d be the happiest that way.

“But away from those personal reasons, I also want to help others through my work, like Shepherd has done for me. I want people to find hope in it and a reason to keep on pushing themselves. That’s actually probably one of the biggest reasons I want to join this project at all.” Mikleo’s expression and voice grows softer without him properly noticing. “Shepherd has already done so much for a lot of people out there. It’d mean the world if this could be the start of me doing the same, for both this project and all the rest to come.”

“ _And what are you going to do to achieve those goals?”_ Rose asks.

“Keep on working as hard as I can, as I’ve always done, and never let any opportunity be wasted. I’d rather accept failures and rejection as steps to success than never actually make any progression to what I want to do. I’m always striving to become a better version of myself, both in my work and out of it.”

The smile he receives, which is so consistently on Rose’s face, says it all; he is saying all the right words. Everything he says is coming straight from the heart, from the absolute truth, barely anything rehearsed.

When he was saying this to Eizen in their practice runs, sure, his answers had been decent. Solid, expected answers in an interview, clear and what anyone would think of practising in order to achieve something. But here, as he continues to speak from his true emotions, his true aspirations, he realises that to get this, he needs far more than perfected, rehearsed answers.

They want someone genuine. They want someone who isn’t simply here to ace an interview and to get a decent, well-paid job. Someone who is simply after those things will never produce the same as someone so emotionally invested. Their work would not speak the same volumes.

Mikleo realises through every question asked of him, every answer he gives, that they aren’t simply after an artist. They are seeking someone similar to Sorey in their dreams. Someone who feels the same, thinks the same, yet is also unique to themselves and will bring something new and fresh to all of the wonderful creations that Sorey gives out to the world.

That is why Mikleo can feel hope in himself. That when he and Rose finish up the interview, giving their regards to one another, that he finds his more worrisome nerves are gone and have been replaced with butterflies and excitement instead.

Because it really does seem like he is what they are looking for.

 

* * *

 

In true Mikleo fashion, he downplays how well the interview seems to have went. According to him, he simply “didn’t do too bad” and would have to wait and see. Those who follow him online may just see this at face value and think that Mikleo is either unsure about how he did, or feels as though he did not do well at all.

But those who know him far better than someone who has never spoken to him personally know that this is not the case. If he did badly, it’d show through far more, even if Mikleo would have done his absolute best to hide it. Insecurities have made him a master at concealing any pride in his work. Sometimes, however, it’s far from enough.

“ _He can hide it all he wants, we know he’s done great,”_ says Edna to Eizen, because she simply knows him too well to be tricked by any sort of fronts that Mikleo puts up for himself.

Even if he has done well and he finds that this waiting time to hear an answer is far less anxiety-inducing than waiting for the interview had been, that will naturally not stop nerves completely. Days go by as the usual. He goes to work, comes home and creates if he can, finding that this whole opportunity has re-sparked his love and motivation, to the point where he swears his quality has improved. He laughs with his colleagues, chats to friends online, goes to visit Edna, Eizen and Zaveid.

Everything seems far brighter when you have this much hope sparked in your heart.

And it keeps going even through those worse days, when Mikleo remembers all the struggles he has faced and starts to doubt himself once again. It is the one thing which helps him keep pushing harder than ever, this hope only starting to fade slightly as his eyes stare at the number on his screen. He knows instantly what it is.

With shaking hands, he accepts the call and puts the phone to his ear. “Hello, Mikleo Rulay speaking.”

“ _Ah, hello!”_ comes a female voice, lighter than that of Rose. _“My name is Alisha Diphda, I am Sorey’s editor. I am calling in regards to your interview with Rose.”_

“Yes?” he says, cursing himself for such a short and blunt response, but his heart is pounding so much and his nerves and fear running so high that he cannot bring himself to extend on his words.

“ _I am pleased to inform you that out of all those we have interviewed, we have deemed you as the most fitting for the role. So congratulations! So long as you are still willing to join us, you’ve been hired.”_

Mikleo freezes. For a moment, he can do nothing more than simply stand there in place, not moving a single muscle. Because even if his successful interview gave him a new lease of confidence, that he knew he did well and might be a likely candidate for the person who will be given this job, those emotions are nowhere near the same as this being confirmed.

“ _Mr Rulay? Are you there?”_

“A-Ah, yes! Sorry!” he stutters immediately, feeling his face flush. “Sorry, I was a little surprised. Thank you very much for this opportunity. I promise I will not let any of you down.”

“ _We have faith that you won’t,”_ says Alisha, seeming a little amused by Mikleo’s reaction. _“Sorey in particular was_ so _excited over your application! He wanted to go ahead and follow your social media right there and then, but obviously if he did so it would have been obvious that you were a clear winner, in his eyes. Anyway, he will be contacting you shortly. We will look forward to working with you!”_

“The same goes to you,” says Mikleo, smiling through his racing heart. The call ends moments later; even before he has put the phone down, he has a notification telling him that Sorey has now followed him on Twitter, as though he was in the same room as Alisha and could barely wait to see the news.

Mikleo hand covers his face. Not even to cry, although he cannot deny that these tears in his eyes will be bound to fall any moment; he is simply in too much shock to do anything else. His emotions are hard to channel. Excitement, overwhelming joy, disbelief — his heart is so overcome by everything that all he can do is let these tears fall.

His phone vibrates against his face moments later. He brings it down from him, glancing at the screen. A delighted laugh of disbelief escapes him as he sees that he has _another_ notification from Sorey. It seems as though the man truly cannot contain his excitement.

Mikleo brings it up, finding a rush of warmth, and perhaps what could even be called love, is sent straight to his chest.

 

‘ _I’m excited to announce that the person we have chosen is @luzrov_rulay! Though all of our applicants showed us amazing talent and potential, it’s Mikleo’s work who stood out most to us. You can expect amazing things from him; I know I am!’_

 

The last sentence brings Mikleo down to his knees, no longer able to stop himself from sobbing from joy.

After all he has done to get here, all of his fighting and the struggles he has been through, he can finally say he has made it. He can finally see the worth in himself that everyone tries to tell him he has.

Never has the future looked as promising as it does today.


	3. A Life of Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the way over in Rolance is the author who has started it all. Sorey is currently thrilled to begin working on his and Mikleo's project, realising how much of a perfect decision he has made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of lovely comments I had on the last chapter almost had me in tears. It has been a long time since I've had so much love on a piece of my work, and I almost forgot how overwhelming it can be; in a good way, of course! I especially appreciate it due to how I've been worried for a long time that not many people still read my work, so thank you.
> 
> Also, I apologise for not warning you about the name change! It happened spontaneously one day, I've been meaning to for a while. As you've probably guessed, yes, I was previously SkiaWolf.
> 
> Here is the third chapter, this one (as you've likely guessed from the summary) from Sorey's perspective. Hope you enjoy!

A contented sigh escapes the man’s lips after he swallows a gulp of his coffee. Its warmth causes his body to visibly relax as he looks out of the window with a smile. The sun is shining again today, proof it’s going to be another good day.

But of course, with how exciting everything in his life has been and how he has been working towards something new, Sorey sees almost any day as a joy to experience.

After taking another gulp, he sets the mug down onto the cupholder on his desk. His eyes avert to his phone when it releases his notification tone; his smile grows when he sees that it’s because of an email reply from Mikleo.

It has been around a week since Sorey had announced the winner of his contest. To him, though of course he _did_ consider every option and would never admit this to the public, there had barely been any chance of him not picking Mikleo. To him, Mikleo ticked each and every box, Sorey seeing him as the perfect fit for the world he has envisioned.

He opens the email, which reads:

 

_'Good morning to you too, Sorey._

 

_Yes, I assure you that it is fine for me to do the character designs also; I understand the need to save time and money, being as you’re an independent author, and though I know you would do anything for your work, if I can help ease your troubles and give my help where I can provide, I will._

_Besides, your character descriptions were the perfect thing for me to picture these characters. I was able to envision them the moment you described them to me … Which probably seems like a silly thing a fan might say, now I think about it. But it’s true._

_I feel as though I work best with my own designs when it comes to original works. Not to say that I would not believe in the potential of a character designer, should you have hired one; I very much would have. But I feel as though I’ll truly be able to connect to your world if I had been the one to bring your characters to life from the start._

_I apologise the length of this email, I wanted to reassure you. Please view the attached documents for my initial designs. I would love to know what you think._

 

_Kind regards,_

_Mikleo'_

 

Before Sorey has even opened up these designs, he feels a spark of joy from simply reading this email. Naturally from its contents; he is grateful that Mikleo is willing to put in all this hard work, irregardless of the extra pay. However, what truly sparks joy is Mikleo’s tone and the way he speaks with confidence.

He has yet to actually speak on the phone to him. Rose implied the same day that Mikleo learned he won that he is a rather big fan of Sorey, having expressed his adoration for Sorey’s work a number of times. Sorey thought the same when watching over the recording and doesn’t mind at all. Why would he, when this means that Mikleo will be all the more passionate about working on this project with Sorey?

However, it does cause one concern; Mikleo being a little intimidated to speak to Sorey. In reality, Sorey is a very gentle, even if gregarious person, and is anything but frightening to speak to. Yet he can also understand any fear and nerves Mikleo may have. After all, when you idolise someone for a long time, you will naturally be rather flustered to speak to them.

This concern is only miniscule regardless. Though Mikleo still appears relatively nervous when Sorey analyses his emails — which he is naturally good at, as a writer — he doesn’t let this interrupt his consistently professional attitude. He might have admitted that he does not yet feel comfortable with any phone calls, but he has remained strong in this regard and has never once made himself out to not be someone who is as focused on this project as Sorey is.

Sorey can hardly wait to bring up Mikleo’s work so far. And when he does, he both wonders how on Earth Mikleo can both work so fast and yet so beautifully.

Naturally, as these are full body designs, Mikleo has not yet been able to create the full set of characters — with Sorey’s blessing, of course — and will likely not do so all at once when a number of characters will likely not be illustrated until much further into the novel. However, the two he has created so far has met Sorey’s expectations and more.

The two main characters’ references sheets stand in front of him. They are the two main characters that Sorey has created in his mind, now come to life in art. The first, a bold, confident warrior, his armour feeling so wonderfully detailed even with how these are only coloured sketches. You can view the expression of a man who is striving to do all he can for the world, as strands of brunet hair blow past his face in an imaginary wind.

His romantic interest for this novel is a mage of smaller stature, curly white hair pulled back from their head. His hands hold onto a mighty staff conjuring magic, his robes of midnight blue floating around them in a way which makes him appear ethereal.

They are exactly like how Sorey imagined. And he knows that when he goes to write these two characters and bring their stories to life through words, anyone who reads this novel will be able to see that they are exactly those who Sorey has written, no questions ask.

All in all, he has done perfectly, and Sorey has found himself filled with bursting excitement when he imagines how these very characters will look in a fully detailed and rendered illustration, the kind Mikleo has shown on his portfolio.

Sorey has well and truly fallen in love with these beautiful strokes of paint. He knows that this world would be incomplete without them.

“Gosh, he really did end up doing the character designs as well, didn’t he?”

With a nod, Sorey turns to the woman the voice belongs to; Alisha. She is inspecting Sorey’s screen with bewildered eyes.

“Yep! I told him what was going on with character design and that he might have to wait before beginning illustrations, and next thing you know, he’s offering to be the designer as well.”

“I mean, character design _had_ been on his portfolio also, so I knew this was part of his skills too,” says Alisha. “But it’s a lot of work to do both. Is he all right doing so?”

Sorey nods. “I made sure of that. Our pay is a lot more than his job is, so he can afford to quit that and look for something else towards the end of this project. He’s just said that he’ll be a bit slow for a few weeks as he works for the remaining time after handing in his notice.”

“Well, he’s certainly cut out for the job,” says Alisha.

“I’d say! I should reply to him now actually, don’t want to keep him waiting …”

She smiles as she watches him. Sorey has always been incredibly passionate about what he does. Every new novel brings out a new side of Sorey’s joy in his work, every single world seeming to add something new to his character. However, it feels slightly different this time around. This is the first time Sorey has done something of this genre in particular, and it is clear that he is having the time of his life with it.

Both know that Mikleo must feel very similar on the other side of these nervous emails. No matter what part you are in your journey, challenging yourself and trying something new will always be thrilling, taking you to new heights that you have not been able to reach previously.

Of course, said heights are intimidating. It can be frightening to try something new. Sorey understands this, which brings a newfound respect for Mikleo.

He can tell Mikleo is as passionate as Sorey. That will naturally bring forth a desire to do all he can, and that prospect excites Sorey most of all.

 

* * *

 

There are some people who believe that writing is a skill anyone can do. You will always hear the same words being spoken: that everyday people, with no experience with writing stories nor a true passion for creating and experiencing them, saying they are going to write a book one day.

Of course, it is rare that they actually do if they are one of these types. They believe that writing a book can be done at the snap of your fingers.

Anyone _can_ do it — but only if they try. If they realise that writing is a skill to master, that they must have a flair for storytelling, for creation, for words which connect together and create a song on the page — and only then, if they understand that writing a book is not the same as writing an essay in school or a letter to a family member — they will succeed.

You can practice. You can strive, and you can push yourself to the greatest potential, but you will only have this desire if you are already passionate about this world of creation to begin with.

This passion ignites early in a lot of people. Being drawn to writing often stems from an interest in literature to begin with. Sorey, at simply the age of six, was checking piles of books out of the library and poring over their pages once he brought them home. Many of these were far above the reading capabilities you would expect from a child so young.

One might call him a genius for this. That clearly, a child who can read this well must be a prodigy of some sorts. And yes, it would be a lie to state that Sorey is not an intelligent person. There are some traits which come naturally.

As much as this child could be admired, however, describing him as a prodigy might be incorrect. What brought Sorey to this reading skill was not in-born talent; he hadn’t simply been able to pick up a book of four-hundred pages and read through it in two hours.

From the moment he heard stories, Sorey has loved them. It is actually rather simple. Sorey, after bouncing around with high amounts of energy and driving his parents wild all day with how much he wants to explore, would settle immediately as his mother would read a story to him to coax him into bed.

Brave superheroes saving civilians. A captured princess and the dragon guarding her tower. The ordinary boy taking the sword from its stone in order to become king, goblins and witches and faeries, powers and fairy-tales and stories of family and love … Sorey listened to each and every one. He never simply heard words. He _listened_ to them, he imagined these worlds and all that is in them.

It didn’t take very long for Sorey to not be satisfied with simply hearing these stories before he goes to bed. Although he had still been full of energy, racing around and playing the same as any other child his age, he took time for those quiet moments in a book as well.

He first began by reading the stories which he has listened to all this time. Soon, he wanted to see more, to escape in more and more worlds, fully aware that there are so many out there. He could not find himself fully contented with the books they have in their home. That is when the library visits began.

So it is not a natural talent which brought Sorey into the world of literature. Rather, he is proof that passion and adoration alone can guide you. He read so much, experienced books with all he had, enough to make them a natural part of his life. He didn’t see it as making an effort to get to the reading level he reached at such a young age.

He began to take the journey that many other writers venture on as well. Reading stories soon wasn’t enough. It has never stopped bringing enjoyment, of course. He will never not be able to appreciate reading books. However, he felt an urge to do so much more. He realised that he had more at his disposal.

Sorey did not have to just experience worlds. He could _create_ them.

His mind had been bursting with the endless imagination a child possesses. Though a child cannot properly understand the concept of living vicariously through a fictional creation, or drawing inspiration from that which has already been made, he experienced these nonetheless. And so, Sorey began to create his own stories too, with no more than a piece of paper scribbled on with pencils and crayons.

They were terrible. Of course they were. No writer, no matter your age, can start off with immaculate writing and a perfected story. Being so young only added to this inexperience and lack of knowledge on _how_ to write.

But no beginning has to be perfect. Starting a journey requires nothing but putting your foot through that door and stepping into another world for the first time. It is all fresh, all sparkling new, and you will only drown yourself if you dive right in rather than take it slow.

Taste the waters before you swim. This is what Sorey did by wanting to be like his favourite writers at such a young age. He scribbled simple stories about fairy-tales, about princesses and knights, superheroes and aliens and everything in between — to him, there were so many possibilities, _endless_ opportunities for creation — and showed them to his parents excitedly.

His father saw this as a simple thing for fun. This had never been a malicious belief; it is normal to believe that your child has simply found yet another thing to pass the time and to explore. His mother saw something different. Deep inside those scrawled words in barely eligible handwriting, she realised that there is passion, there is love and a bottomless pit of ideas, which may evolve one day.

Her death stopped him from writing one day. But when he returned, when he had reached a point in his teenage years where he realised that this hobby may become so much more, he had been able to take this grief and transform it into realistic emotions and even deeper stories.

He did the mature step that any strong creator will take; harnessing your experiences, both positive and negative, and bringing it with you into your created worlds.

This is when he realised that this is the only path which will grant him true satisfaction in life. He will never want to do anything else.

Of course, one cannot simply jump into the world of publishing and making a living off your craft. Though he flourished through his debut novel, an instant undiscovered star emerging from nowhere, it is not as though he had no other obstacles and challenges to face in order to reach this point.

Rejections are part of the journey for any writer. Everyone must brace themselves for it, no matter how talented you are and how incredible your writing is, because there will be someone who dislikes it. There always will be. Yet with that one person who rejects you, there will be a hundred who admire you.

So he nodded and smiled with each rejection and brought himself back up every single time. He pushed through every single thing, polished up his work to the best of his abilities, and made it by the young age of twenty.

In writing, where so much has to not be included — missing days of efforts, all the moments with stressed and frustrated tears, all of the thoughts about giving up after all — it sounds far easier than it truly is. It is never easy.

Yet Sorey has never been one to take the easy route in life. He has never wanted to disappoint those who believe in him. This hard work is what has pushed him to this point.

So he understands how stressful and tough the journey can be. He knows that every helping hand, every word of encouragement and opportunity means absolutely everything to one who is struggling.

That is why he arranged this application. He wanted to help someone else who has struggled, who has not quite been able to break into the industry the way Sorey has.

This person has ended up as Mikleo. Sorey is far from disappointed that this is the case.

 

* * *

 

One afternoon brings Sorey, Rose and Alisha to a café in order to eat lunch together.

This is yet another perk of working by your own schedule. Sorey can scatter his working hours all throughout the day if he needs to ― or simply _wants_ to ― and slot in periods away from his writing away from them. It is a convenient way to work, especially when you are both a busy person, yet also one who wants to enjoy the simple pleasures of life also.

Of course, because he is as passionate as can be about his projects, this time of relaxation will not come without being fruitful. Sorey has brought along scribbled plans, as well as a few printed copies of Mikleo’s sketches. He decides to sift through them as the trio wait for their food.

“So you’ve already started discussing what scenes Mikleo may be illustrating?” Alisha asks, receiving a nod from Sorey.

“Yup! Obviously I’m still in the process of writing myself. But there are some scenes which are definite, even if they might end up being edited by you, so it’s not too early to draw out some thumbnails.”

“Their first meeting,” says Rose, grinning as she lifts up a piece of paper. “Of course!”

Sorey smiles, eyes darting to the illustrations drawn there. His decision on who to work with has been perfect so far. Mikleo’s artwork has captured his very thoughts perfectly; his attention to Sorey’s writing is the kind which only a fan could bring, one who is enjoying having the chance to read Sorey’s story as they go along.

Anyone else might simply draw from the words they see on the page. Mikleo, on the other hand, dives deep into their meaning and into what Sorey wishes to portray, releasing that potential into his own craft.

“ _Who are you?”_ asks the warrior, staring at the magnificent creature who stands before him. The precise words Sorey has written return to his mind when he looks at these mere plans alone.

“I have to say that I’m particularly excited for this project myself,” says Alisha, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. “It has been a pleasure being your editor, yet I’ve never edited anything like this before.”

“And I know that Dezel will do great with any extra design work!” adds Rose.

Sorey nods. “There’s only a small group of us, but I know that it’s exactly what we need.”

As though struck with a bolt of sudden inspiration, Sorey is then sorting through his plans, trying to find that one page in particular. He lets out an “Ah!” when he finds it. Alisha and Rose watch fondly as he begins to write in the margins of a page in pencil, never quite able to properly reach the mind of someone so spontaneous and enthusiastic.

“Um, I’m sorry, but …”

“Ah, no, _we’re_ sorry!” Alisha exclaims, averting her gaze to the waitress who stands with their plates of lunch balancing on her arms. She and Rose scoop up the sheets as Sorey helps the waitress settle the plates on the table.

“I, uh … You’re working on a new book?” the woman asks a little timidly. Sorey diverts his gaze back to her once he has placed a plate in front of Rose, immediately drawn to the bisexual badge on her shirt. “I’m, well, I-I’m a huge fan, actually.”

“Ah, that’s awesome!” Sorey exclaims with genuine joy. “Yeah, I’m working on something at the moment. Got a lot to plan out!”

“You might have seen about it online,” says Rose, enjoying the interaction as she doesn’t hesitate to begin cutting into her food.

“The visual novel?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Wow.” The woman can only stare for a moment, seeming utterly starstruck. The blush on her face deepens, as she stammers, “Could I, um … Could I maybe have your autograph? I don’t know if you charge, but if you do, that’s ―”

“Nah, not at all,” Sorey interrupts gently, his smile reassuring. “I’d be happy to!”

Her eyes light up with joy. She nods with a growing smile, taking something out of her pocket; the three are quick to see that it is a bookmark. She hands it over, fingers fidgeting in front of her as she watches nervously. Sorey doesn’t hesitate to sign it.

“Your name is … Hannah, I’m assuming?” says Sorey, glancing at her name badge. She nods.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Awesome.” His eyes divert back to the bookmark, swirling his writing across it before he hands it back over with a smile. “Here you go!”

“Thank you so much,” she says, hugging it to her chest. “Really, it means a lot to me. Sorry to interrupt your meal!”

“Not at all,” says Alisha, smiling. Hannah nods, giving them one last smile of her own before she is hurrying away.

Over in the distance, they notice how a colleague of hers ― they assume one who has encouraged her to speak to Sorey ― pats her on the back as she returns to the kitchen.

“You really are a great person, Sorey,” Alisha continues.

“I wouldn’t see this as a reason for that,” says Sorey, now cutting into a bacon and cheese panini. “I mean, where would I be without my readers? I would lose most of my reason for writing.”

“And you’d be broke,” Rose adds through her mouthful. Sorey chuckles.

“That too.”

“Yes, but not all people with fame are as down to earth as you are,” says Alisha. “You truly do care for every one of them as an individual, not as a whole group and nothing more. And you always seem so happy meeting them.”

“That’s true, actually,” says Rose, now without food in her mouth. “A lot of people out there get a superiority complex as soon as they get anything close to celebrity status. Every growth adds to their ego and its pretty gross. You, though? You’re always so thankful, and it’s probably why people love you so much. Away from what you do, obviously.”

Sorey hums in thought. “You’re right, really. You see it all the time, don’t you? Where someone is just seeing their fans as a means for money and all that? I can’t stand it. My readers might be how I earn a living, sure, but that’s exactly why I want to be so grateful towards them. I’d be nowhere without them.”

“They know that! Especially with this new project,” says Rose.

“I was going to say that,” says Alisha in agreement. “You could have contacted any popular artist out there. With your own reputation, they would have likely agreed, and it’s not as though we don’t have the funds. It would have also brought in more attention. Yet that wasn’t your focus; you wanted to help one of your fans as well in the process.”

“Of course I did,” says Sorey immediately. “I know what it’s like to struggle, and there’s a lot of unnoticed artists out there, _especially_ those belonging to a minority group. If I have the power to help, then why wouldn’t I choose to do exactly that?”

Sorey speaks in a matter-of-fact tone. To him, helping others so selflessly and appreciating them deeply comes naturally. He barely has to think about being kind. He himself is exactly like that, meaning he will never fake his personality in order to falsely draw in others.

Yet he is not so selfless that he cannot be proud of himself either. Though he emphasises regularly that it is down to the continuous support from his fans that he has been able to reach this far, he also recognises his own efforts and talent. He is aware that he is also to thank for how far he has come.

Both humble yet also prideful, he is the type of person one can easily look up to, and he does it all without a blink of his eyes.

He is as natural and casual as he could possibly be. It is no wonder that Alisha and Rose continue to admire him every single day.

 

* * *

 

Leaning back against the sofa, Sorey hums to himself as he reads over the paragraphs he has written. Sometimes he thinks about how screwed he would be without an editor. He writes so quickly that sometimes, though he generally does so well, he can type silly mistakes that he manages to overlook rather easily.

His heart swells as he reads over it, however. He truly is proud of how this novel is coming along so far. Despite not having a solid plan for a lot of places ― Sorey’s work is often times as spontaneous as Sorey himself ― all the gaps in between seem to be filling themselves in as he goes along. It is often like Sorey’s characters begin to move on their own.

He glances to the phone resting by his side when it vibrates. With a smile, he lifts it, glad that he is correct on who he has received a message from.

His communication with Mikleo has reached a point where they can text each other, and although he imagines Mikleo might feel odd doing so, Sorey finds that it is completely normal to him.

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _I’ve read the latest scene. I’m never not impressed by how you write action … I know it’s a tricky thing to get right, yet every single time, you nail it. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.’_

 

**Sorey**

‘ _Thanks, Mikleo! I’m sure you’re going to illustrate it perfectly, too. What do you have in mind?’_

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _Because of the length, you said that up to two illustrations is okay, right? I was thinking the moment where he perfects his electricity spell for the first time and harnesses it through his sword. Then perhaps when he walks away, cape billowing in the wind and all that?’_

 

Sorey has to take a moment to smile to himself. You can tell how immersed Mikleo is in the story, not to mention how similar the two think; when writing, Sorey had thought the exact same, that these two moments in particular are the perfect choices for Mikleo to bring to life. It’s rather incredible how in sync they are.

 

**Sorey**

‘ _Ahhh yeah, that’s awesome! I was thinking about that myself. So sure, go ahead! How are you doing on the earlier ones? You were almost finished a couple of days ago with the bar scene, right?’_

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _Yes, that’s right. And I think I can call it done; I’ve just been looking over it carefully for mistakes and everything. Um, there is something that I was hoping to seek guidance on though. It’s on the illustration after.’_

 

**Sorey**

‘ _That’s absolutely fine, what is it?’_

 

Unlike Mikleo’s previous messages, which had been sent in one after the other, there is a delay in this reply. Sorey grows a little puzzled, although when he decides that Mikleo is probably a little distracted and is texting Sorey as he works. Sorey’s eyes return to his laptop screen in the meantime, placing a coffee up to his lips.

A couple of minutes later, his phone finally vibrates again.

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _I’m having a bit of trouble thinking of how to compress it into a single message.’_

 

The short reply puzzles Sorey more than the wait itself; he swears that as he has been waiting, he has seen the ‘ _typing’_ indication pop up more than once.

His intuition kicks in and allows him to realise what Mikleo might be thinking.

 

**Sorey**

‘ _You could email it instead? Or I could call you if you want! ☺’_

 

Another pause greets Sorey. He waits patiently, understanding well that it is this very suggestion which has been continuously causing nerves to rise in Mikleo.

The reply arrives eventually, one which brings a smile to Sorey’s face.

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _Okay.’_

 

For the first time, Sorey dials the number of the person he has found himself eager to listen to the voice of, to hear it directed at _him,_ not Rose, and not to simply answer the questions of an interview.

His heart soars from the first word alone.


	4. Budding Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and Mikleo hear each other's voices on the phone for the first time. The connection only seems to bring them closer, the bond they've created over their shared work growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your feedback! I'm delighted that my experiences of both an artist and writer are shining through in the story. It definitely has its advantages creating both, so I'm glad to hear that you enjoy its inclusion in the story.
> 
> This chapter is a little longer, before the next one is uh, accidentally almost SoCS chapter length, pfft! I've been writing this story in a single doc and had no idea until I copied and pasted the chapter. For now though, I hope you enjoy this one!

How one can be at the peak of excitement yet also regret their actions instantaneously, Mikleo has no idea.

In actuality, he shouldn’t feel this way. At all. He and Sorey are, as much as it has been strange to accept even weeks later, work partners. A simple phone call is a natural part of the process.

Even so, simply knowing this fact cannot stop how his heart beats so loudly in his chest that he can feel it in his ears. He stares and stares at the phone as though it holds every answer in the world.

It’s far from the first time he has done this. Ever since he first began communicating with Sorey, nothing has felt real. Yet emails had been more sophisticated, less of Sorey’s personality shining through―though it had of course been there, if Mikleo looked past that, he could imagine that this had not been Sorey at all.

Before long, however, Sorey suggested texting instead. Faster and far more convenient than emails, Mikleo understood and gave his approval.

It is only for work, he tells himself. And it is. But he would be lying to himself if he tried to make out as though casually sending messages to _his idol_ would spark newfound joy in him.

There is truly no wonder as to why his friends persistently tease him.

And now, there is Sorey’s name on his screen. Calling him. Whilst he stares without answering, too confounded over how he has reached this stage at all.

He accepts the call, of course. In a swift motion as he braces himself, as though answering it will have dire consequences. “Hello?” he says, managing to keep his voice far calmer than his heart. Thankfully.

“ _Hey there, Mikleo!”_

“Thanks for calling me,” says Mikleo. He feels slightly breathless. Although he also scolds himself mentally, knowing that there _are_ in fact reasons for taking this call.

“ _Not a problem; it makes things easier, doesn’t it? You doing okay?”_

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just have a few questions about the scene at the end of chapter five, and what you might be expecting from me.”

“ _Ask away!”_

And he does so. Once he draws his attention from who is on the other side of this call to the scattered sheets in front of him―printed pages of Sorey’s novel and his own loose sketches―he finds that his nerves disappear with his focus on his work.

Never once has he lied when he says that he applied for this job because he knows that it is the perfect work for him. Even with his astonishment over speaking to his favourite author over the phone, his tasks to complete are still his main focus first and foremost.

“Right, that sounds good,” says Mikleo, flicking through the sheets. “I’ll be able to get started soon, then. Thank you.”

“ _No problem, I can’t wait to see! So you finished adding the last touches to the last one, then?”_

“I have, yes. I was going to send it over soon.”

His eyes are automatically brought to his computer screen. He has scrutinised every single area of the canvas, trying to find if there are any flaws _anywhere._ It reached the point of being obsessive eventually, wondering if the scattered dust looks natural enough from the boot digging into the dirt, or if the top highlighting layer on the foreshortened sword should be at a fourteen or sixteen percent opacity.

Usually when he begins to fret over these tiny details, he knows that he is in fact finished, and he should probably leave it at last before he ruins it.

“ _Are you too busy to send it now, or would it be all right? I’m so excited, I just want to see it!”_

“O-Oh, uh,” says Mikleo, finally losing the cool front he has created for himself. It has been one thing for Sorey to fawn over his work through words on a screen; to actually _hear_ it is a different story. “That’d be fine.”

“ _Awesome!”_

Sorey mentions nothing about ending the call. And so, Mikleo leans the phone against his shoulder as he begins to bring up an email. As he does so, Sorey speaks again.

“ _I_ finally _reached that twenty-five thousand word mark, by the way!”_

“Already? That’s amazing.”

“ _Thanks! I’m usually a bit quicker, but this visual novel thing is a bit new to me. I’m taking my time more than usual, making sure that the scenes won’t be altered drastically so that you’re not asked to scrap work or add something in on short notice. I have to plan a lot more than I usually do.”_

“You did mention in an interview that you usually go with the flow,” says Mikleo, watching the bar on his screen fill, indicating the percentage of how much of his file has uploaded.

“ _Oh yeah, for sure. I usually go in just kinda knowing what I’m doing. Like I know about the story, major events, the characters and so on. They tend to have a life of their own and fill in the gaps by themselves.”_

“And you can’t rely on that as much this time?”

“ _Nah, because it often has to involve going back and filling in loop holes. Obviously that might happen here too, but I’m avoiding it less! So I’m like … half winging it, half knowing what I’m doing.”_

“Sounds a lot like me simply going through life, to be honest,” says Mikleo, smiling over the laugh he receives. He presses _‘send’_ on his email. “All right, there you go.”

“ _Awesome, I’ll bring it up now!”_

Silence, the fast rate of Mikleo’s beating heart slowly returning, before …

“ _Whoa! This is_ so _incredible! You captured it exactly like I wanted!”_

“You approve of it, then?” Mikleo says. His heart might burst at any moment. He is no stranger from hearing Sorey’s enthusiastic tone, not when he has spoken like this in countless interviews, but he feels as though he could faint from hearing this voice be directed at _him_ for the first time.

“ _Not just approve, I love it! Truly! Just look at that_ sword …” There is a temporary silence, as though Sorey has to stop speaking in order to take in more of the illustration. _“_ _The lighting is so awesome too … You really got the atmosphere with the rain down perfectly, yet the glow from the lights is really vivid still!”_

“I’m glad that I managed to capture it well,” says Mikleo, wondering how he can even breathe.

“ _Absolutely! Your lighting is actually one of the reasons I wanted to pick you, it’s perfect!”_

“It’s not really anything special,” Mikleo says, although adds in a mumble, “I, uh … Thanks. I appreciate it.” He can feel that heat has risen to his face and wonders if Sorey will somehow be able to guess this.

“ _You’re not really good with compliments, are you?”_

“Huh?” he says, having not expected the sudden speculation. “Um, I suppose not. I’m grateful for them and I never want to seem like I’m trying to shove them away.”

“ _Just get embarrassed over them?”_

“I guess. And I’m a bit insecure, so …” Mikleo sits up straighter, gesticulating with his left hand as though Sorey will be able to see it through Mikleo’s voice. “N-Not that I’m saying I faked what I said in the interview or anything! I’m just … I lack in confidence at times, that’s all.”

“ _No worries, I get it!”_ Sorey responds. _“Don’t worry. No creator is completely confident―not unless they’re a bit of an egoist, anyway. You can still know you’re good at what you do while still feeling insecure at times.”_

“You sound like you speak from experience,” Mikleo finds himself saying.

“ _You’ve probably seen me talk about it a bit before, right?”_

“I have, yeah. I think it’s just strange hearing you hint at it.”

“ _I suppose it is, with how upbeat about writing I can be, huh? I’m definitely way more confident these days. Sometimes Alisha has to reassure me a bit here and there, but aside from that, I’m good! But it wasn’t always like that. I’ve had times where I’ve wanted to give up too, mostly when I was still writing short stories and wasn’t aiming for publication.”_

“It’s hard to imagine you being rejected, what with how much you have become a success now,” says Mikleo.

“ _Right? When you look at someone like me, who really has turned out successful, it can be difficult to imagine that_ they _have experienced rejection, too. But I think it’s really important to remember. I know that I got through a lot of tougher times by remembering that_ my _favourite writers often experienced rejection as well.”_

Sorey lets out a laugh. _“Sorry, I’ve got on a bit of a tangent here! What I was trying to say is that I get it. I wouldn’t have wanted to hire someone who is_ completely _insecure; as harsh as it might seem, when you’re working on a project like this, you can’t afford to have someone who is lacking in confidence so much that they view everything as a failure.”_

“That’s understandable,” says Mikleo. “It would only hinder progress, and if they are at such a low point of their journey, they should be focusing on working on themselves and their craft, polishing it and bringing up their confidence enough so that they _can_ apply for work later on.”

“ _Exactly. So I needed someone who clearly does know of their potential and is confident when they need to be, yet I still understand being insecure to some degree. But you really don’t need to be, you know. I chose you for a reason! If I didn’t think that you would be up to the task, I would have chosen someone else.”_

“That’s true. And uh, thank you, really.” Mikleo smiles to himself. Every ounce of gratitude he has experienced during this incredible journey appears to come together all at once, settling inside a warm heart. “I appreciate you giving me this chance. I know I’ve said it a few times already, but … Well, this is the first time I actually get to say it to you properly.”

“ _Hey, of course! That’s why I even started the applications, so that I could give someone who wasn’t that well known an opportunity. You don’t have to thank me!”_

But Mikleo does. He knows exactly what Sorey means, yet of course he needs to thank Sorey.

The latter is so beautifully selfless. Not so much that it impacts his own well being and achieving his own happiness, but enough so that he can grant others that same joy.

Mikleo has always known through Sorey’s writing. Though it is as clear as day that Sorey writes for himself, choosing the route of writing what _he_ wants to see and drawing in those who think and adore alike in the process, his writing is also for others, too. He uses his craft to grant everyone the same joy he feels as he creates.

Sorey is forever looking out for others. He wants them to achieve what he has accomplished, not caring for how this brings on more competition. This would only heighten his fire if anything. He is gregarious for sure, loving others and wanting to be surrounded by them. He appreciates differences― _celebrates_ them, even―and appreciates helping everyone regardless of who they are.

Yet he does not do it for credit like many others do. He does this sincerely, because he simply wants to, even if he might not get anything back.

Of course he deserves gratitude. The very idea that he believes he does not need it only emphasises why he does.

“ _So, anyway,”_ says Sorey a few minutes later, once their discussion of work has reached its end. _“I saw you retweeted that pirate novel that has just come out. Doesn’t it look_ awesome?! _I pre-ordered it instantly! You bet I’m going to be writing the biggest review this world has ever seen!”_

Mikleo’s heart soars as he realises that Sorey doesn’t simply want to talk about their work. Of course, Mikleo answers instantly, and the two are lead into a ramble about the literature they are most excited for.

They speak normally. Naturally. As though their employer and employee, their star and fan relationship, doesn’t build up any sort of walls between them.

They laugh and they discuss and lightly bicker as though they are simply friends.

This alone lights up Mikleo’s world.

 

* * *

 

With a gentle hum, Mikleo inspects the palette he has set up and waiting. He alters two colours a little, inspecting them before he continues to add colour to the canvas. Values are often times bigger priorities than the palette itself. After all, you can do wonders with any base colour dependent on how you render it. He simply wants to ensure that he gets everything right in this project.

Surprisingly, he finds that he is fairly relaxed with this work. Perhaps now it has already been a couple of months since he and Sorey had first started working together is what has done it. This, though he does his best to fit in the odd personal work as well, has taken up a lot of his time—in a good way. He enjoys the busyness. And the more he works at it, the more natural this schedule will become.

It has also definitely helped with the speed he works at. He has been fairly quick for a while, despite how many hours it takes to make such detailed compositions seeming to suggest otherwise. This has truly brought him to his full potential in this regard, however. He doesn’t want to let Sorey down. Or anyone else, for that matter; he has grown a newfound appreciation for the few other members of staff working with Sorey as well.

He smiles and glances up as a glass of water is placed down on a coaster nearby. “Thanks, Eizen.”

Eizen smiles back, stretching up as he glances at the canvas. “Looks great so far. I love the perspective. Try not to overdo it though, all right? Nothing good will come out of burning yourself out for this.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” says Mikleo.

This is, in fact, one of the reasons Mikleo has come here at all―when he is alone at his apartment, he finds that it is easy for him to sometimes lose track of time and work for longer than he should. He sometimes chooses to counter this by doing his work at Eizen’s home instead.

Currently, Edna and Zaveid have gone to pick up some groceries―the former doing so considering she usually stays here more than her own house―as Eizen prepares dinner. This means little distractions. Eizen knows better than to irritate Mikleo, although all three will give him the space when he needs it.

They will simply ensure to pop their head around the door here and then, checking on Mikleo to make sure that he hasn’t been drawing for five hours straight with no break and that he is actually eating and drinking.

“When is the deadline for this one?” asks Eizen.

“The latest Sorey wants this one by is a week from now, although he is pretty lenient. Plus I’m almost done anyway, so I won’t have any problems hitting that. I might actually get it done in a couple of days.”

“He must be thankful to have you be so on time with everything.”

“He’s said that a few times,” says Mikleo. He pauses for a moment as he fixes up some shading, before he continues. “He’s thanked me a lot for being so diligent and everything. But he also knows that sometimes artists reach slumps, and it’s not like it’s only one singular piece I’m doing for him. So I never have to worry about if I have a day here and there where I can’t bring myself to work much.”

“Not everyone would be like that. He’s definitely a considerate guy.”

Mikleo nods in agreement. “For sure. Shouldn’t you get back to cooking, anyway? With your luck, it’d somehow burn just from being in the oven for thirty seconds too long.”

“You’re seriously not wrong,” says Eizen, causing Mikleo to chuckle. The latter’s eyes return to his laptop once Eizen leaves the room.

He falls straight back into the flow for another fifteen minutes before Edna and Zaveid arrive home, bags of groceries in hand. Or at least, _Zaveid_ has multiple bags, weighing down each arm—Edna, on the other hand, holds one in her right hand, which Mikleo assumes has barely any weight at all.

“Give me a hand here, Mik?” Zaveid says, a little breathlessly. Mikleo nods, saving his work before he gets to his feet. He takes a bag in each hand from Zaveid.

“I know that you’re naturally weaker than Zaveid is,” says Mikleo to Edna, following the pair to the kitchen, “But _really,_ Edna? You chose to carry _one_ bag?”

“Yep,” she says.

“And what’s in there?”

“The bread and crisps.”

“So basically, the lightest weight of the lot,” says Mikleo. “I’m not surprised.”

“I’m delicate and fragile. I have to be careful.”

“Whatever you say,” says Zaveid, flashing her a grin. The three enter the kitchen, where Eizen is beginning to dish up their stew. With a large _“Phew!”_ the bags are placed down onto the worktops, Eizen glancing at them.

“Considering Mikleo is carrying a couple of those, I can only begin to imagine how much Edna made you carry,” says Eizen.

“Give your sister a good talking to, man,” says Zaveid, rolling his shoulder. “That girl has me working out way more than I should be!”

“She’s not that strong. You should carry more than her.”

“Should have expected that answer,” says Edna. She picks up a fork, attempting to reach to one of the plates, although Eizen’s lenient attitude with being a brother only goes so far; he gently slaps her hand away. “Rude.”

“It’ll only be another couple of minutes. Be patient and get those groceries in the cupboard.”

“But I’m a guest,” she says. Regardless, she begins to assist Zaveid in putting away the groceries. She glances at Mikleo, raising an eyebrow when she sees that rather be of help to them, he is instead typing on his phone. “Hey. Help us out, Meebo.”

Mikleo only gives her partial attention. “I will in a second, I’m just replying to Sorey.”

“Oh, another business conversation?” Zaveid asks. Mikleo shakes his head.

“No, he’s just sending me a picture of his food.” As an afterthought to what he has said, he does the same to his own plate, now resting on the dining table. Edna exchanges a glance with Zaveid. Mikleo notices their matching smirks. “What is it?”

“You’re on sharing pictures of your food now?” asks Zaveid.

“That’s totally part of your work, yup,” says Edna.

“I never said it was. I was just intrigued as he said he made a curry, that’s all. So he sent a picture.” Now sat at the table with his three friends, he sighs as he notices that _all_ of them are now giving him a certain expression. _“What?”_

“You two really do seem to be getting along,” says Eizen.

“I mean, yeah,” says Mikleo, cutting into a chunk of chicken. “But we’re work partners for however long it takes for us to complete this novel. What do you expect?”

Zaveid hums, obviously not seeming convinced. “Just work partners? You seem more like friends now. It’s awesome!”

“Oh no, we’re not particularly friends,” says Mikleo. However, the moment he sees the amused eyes of the others, he shakes his head with his own smile. “All right, maybe we are a bit.”

“A bit, he says,” says Edna, watching as Mikleo cannot resist glancing at his phone when he sees that Sorey has responded; something he usually dares not to do when he is eating food.

“They’ve gotten on like a house on fire,” says Eizen.

“Yeah, I bet they’ll be together before you know it! Isn’t that right, Mickey-boy?”

Not paying full attention to what Zaveid has said, he says, distractedly as he types, “Sure, whatever you say.”

He focuses on Zaveid properly as he bursts out laughing. “What? What is it?”

“So you admit that you’re gonna be together, then!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Yes you did,” Edna confirms.

“Unfortunately so, Mikleo,” says Eizen. Mikleo receives another round of laughter as his face grows red.

“W-Well, I was just distracted,” says Mikleo, finally putting his phone away properly. His eyes fix on the plate in front of him. “I didn’t mean it. We’re obviously just friends.”

“Right, right,” says Zaveid, his smirk growing softer as he watches how remaining on Mikleo’s face is the slightest of smiles, although he seems to be attempting to hide it with his long hair falling past his face.

It is clear to anyone how much this newfound friendship has been slowly bringing more and more joy into Mikleo’s life. Not simply because Sorey is his absolute idol; Mikleo is far from being so shallow. He and Sorey are cut from the same cloth. Though different in a number of ways and have journeyed through life differently also, they are similar too.

Mikleo has likely needed a friend more alike to himself for a long time. This is the last place he expected to find it.

 

* * *

 

Radiating over the world one evening is the relaxing orange glow of the sunset, the colours of the sky merging beautifully together. A cool breeze blows gently through the trio’s hair as they lounge on the grass together, staring up at the sky.

Sorey can feel himself growing inspired already. The relaxing, romantic colours the sky blesses you with can be an inspiration for ideas even with how it is theoretically simple, be it an actual scene or simply getting to know your characters better.

How do _they_ feel when they are underneath the sky? Do they too become filled with awe and wonder, captivated by the palette of mesmerising colours as they signal the ending of each day? Do they feel sorrow instead, their souls lost and inadequate underneath such beauty, realising how tiny they are in comparison to the vastness of the world? Or are they simply not fazed in the slightest by the sunset, positively _or_ negatively?

Everyone is different. Sometimes, as Sorey watches what is around him―be it peaceful nature such as this sunset, or the bustling of people in the city―he cannot help but use it to study life. He realises how much he can analyse and develop his creations if he finds himself able to understand them down to the slightest attribute.

Of course, creating characters is not all simply about thinking critically in times like these. Sometimes ideas will come on their own without you even trying to create them. On occasions, this development may simply be brought on as you are writing, where an action makes you click, and you realise that _this_ is another part of your character as well.

“We’ve all been making great progress,” says Rose, breaking the relaxing silence which surrounds her, Sorey and Alisha. “To think it’s only been a few months, and we’ve already gotten so far!”

“I was a little worried that Mikleo might not have been able to keep up with how fast you work,” says Alisha.

“Same here,” Sorey admits. “I was willing to slow down if need be, though. But he hasn’t needed that at all.”

“He’s a trooper, that’s for sure,” says Rose.

“I’m looking forward to when you two will meet,” says Alisha. The words cause Sorey to pause for a moment, having to process what they entail.

“You know, I haven’t really thought about that much,” says Sorey. “I guess because he lives over in Hyland, and we do all of our talking online. I’d love to meet him soon, though.”

“I take it you’ll definitely be asking him about making it to the signings, when it gets published?” asks Rose. Sorey nods.

“Yeah, for sure. I mean, he’s the artist, after all! It wouldn’t be right for _me_ to be the only one getting attention. Loads of fans have been wanting to meet him anyway. But I’m kind of thinking before then.” Sorey watches the sky, noticing how it darkens around the edges. “I mean, we’re definitely friends now. I think it’d be nice to meet him _before_ we have all that going on. It’d be good to get to know him a bit more.”

“You really do seem to like him more than just a colleague,” says Alisha.

“Well, obviously! I became friends with Rose before long, and I bet if you weren’t my cousin, I’d have befriended you quickly as well.”

“I bet Dezel will take a bit more time warming up to you, though,” Rose says, chuckling.

“Yeah, but he’s definitely important to the team too,” says Sorey. “Thank you for introducing him to me! He’s been helpful as well for sure.”

In time with their conversation, the three friends look up as the back door opens. There stands a man with dark brown hair falling over his eyes, a laptop resting on his arm.

“Speaking of which, hey Dezel!” Sorey greets.

“I managed to finish up the cover drafts,” says Dezel. “I’ll email them over.”

“Thank you,” says Sorey. “I appreciate you working longer today, you really didn’t have to.”

“I mean, that’s the thing about freelance work, we get to choose when we do it,” says Dezel, shrugging his shoulders. His concealed eyes roll as Rose jumps up, knowing already that she’s about to bounce over. This time, she gives a gentle punch on his arm. A grin is on her face.

“Don’t go overdoing it with your eyes,” says Rose. “You should get home and rest up.”

“Yeah, probably. Want to walk home with me?”

“Sure thing! See you tomorrow, guys.”

“See you both later!” says Sorey, watching as the two head back into the house. As he and Alisha enter through the back door, they hear the front closing in the distance. The two smile at each other. In sync, they head over to the kitchen, deciding to grab a drink.

“You know, Dezel really does impress me,” says Alisha. “I could never imagine having a visual impairment like that. He shrugs it off by saying he is only _half_ blind, yet that in itself is incredible. He is truly inspiring.”

“I agree for sure,” says Sorey, smiling. “It shows that you really can achieve your dreams if you work hard enough. And he was given the all clear, wasn’t he? That he shouldn’t develop cancer in the other eye too?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m relieved … I would hate for him to be fully blind.”

“Same here. But somehow, I think I can tell that even that wouldn’t lessen his spirits.”

Alisha’s smile returns. “You’re quite right.”

The two sip a cocktail each as they watch the rest of the sunset out of the window. The sight continues to put them at ease, the fruity taste on the tip of their tongues allowing them to unwind; life will never stop being fulfilling for the two.

They go to bed with high hopes for the following day.

 

* * *

 

Sorey lets out a groan. Writing ruts are rare for him to encounter. And in general, he is completely fine when it comes to having the motivation and ability to write. Yet there is simply that _one_ scene which is deciding to be a complete and utter pain for him.

Sometimes he is spontaneous with writing, happy to write out of order if that will benefit him. But he’s also stubborn. _Very_ stubborn. So rather than simply accept it for how it is and jump ahead if need be, he will fixate on this specific scene until it finally bends to his will.

Only that is precisely not what it is doing.

“Just move on to another one, Sorey,” says Alisha as Sorey’s face plants into his desk. She receives an incoherent mumble, though Sorey raises his head once she places a mug of coffee down next to him.

“I probably will eventually. I’m _really_ excited for the end of this chapter …”

“First kiss, right?” asks Alisha. Sorey nods, immediately feeling excited.

“Yep! So I _am_ tempted to just move ahead to get that written. But it would be more satisfying if I got through this part first.”

“Stubborn as ever, I see.” Alisha rubs her hands on Sorey’s shoulders, working into the knots which have formed between the shoulder blades; Sorey lets out a noise of appreciation, steadily slouching down further and further, reminding Alisha of a deflating balloon. She smiles. “You know, you’ve written a fair amount already. Why not take a break, and see if it helps to bring back your flow?”

Sorey hums and straightens himself back up. “That’s a good idea, I think. Thanks Alisha!”

“Of course. What will you be doing on your break?” she asks.

“I think I might actually ask Mikleo if he wants a video call,” says Sorey, glancing at his phone when on cue, he receives a message:

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _I relate a lot. I have an awful habit of starting new pieces because the ideas excite me and I’ve reached a stump on another, then regret it once I’m swamped with things to work on.’_

 

“Considering we’re already nearly on the fourth month, I’m surprised you haven’t done that yet already,” says Alisha, unable to resist glancing at the message also.

“I didn’t want to seem pushy,” says Sorey. “I think he still gets nervous when talking with me on the phone. He hasn’t really talked about it yet, probably because he doesn’t want to seem unprofessional, but I think he’s a big fan of me.”

“Oh, I’d say. Maybe he has a bit of a crush on you.”

“A crush? Like a celebrity crush?” Sorey questions.

“Something like that.”

He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, that’s the kind of thing people get on actors or musicians, right? Not really authors.”

“I mean, you’re a talented writer with good looks,” says Alisha. “I can imagine that a number of your fans have a crush on you. You even post gym pictures sometimes.”

“That’s a good point,” says Sorey, grinning sheepishly. “But yeah, maybe it’s just really nerve-wrecking working with someone you look up to. I know that _I_ ended up a bit starstruck when I spoke to writers I love once I gained some fame.”

“Exactly. Still, a video call would be lovely.”

Sorey smiles, before asking, “How about you?”

“I think I might go for a bath,” she says. She heads towards the door, giving Sorey a small wave. “Have fun with Mikleo!”

“I will!” he says, watching as the door closes.

As soon as it does so, he finds himself thinking over her words. He’d have to be the most oblivious person on the planet to not recognise how some of his fans may be attracted to him. It has definitely been obvious on a number of occasions.

However, he has become so accustomed to people being this way that he barely thinks about it these days. And Mikleo … He simply seems so professional. Although you cannot perceive all of someone’s thoughts and emotions merely through the phone or written words.

Setting aside this contemplation, he begins to type out a message to Mikleo.

 

**Sorey**

‘ _Ugh, right? I do it all the time too! Or I did anyway, before I started living and breathing this visual novel …_

_By the way, how do you feel about a video call? I thought it’d be a good way for us to talk and take a break at the same time!’_

 

The typing indication appears and disappears numerous times, as though Mikleo is contemplating how he should respond.

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _Do you mean like … right now?”_

 

**Sorey**

‘ _Yeah! So long as you’re not busy ♪’_

 

Another pause. Sorey cannot help but smile warmly.

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _No, I’m not. Let’s go ahead.”_

 

Sorey’s eyes light up immediately. As though there’s no time to spare, he is immediately saving and closing his word document, loading up Skype. He can hardly wait to be able to see Mikleo’s face whilst they also speak; it’s second best to actually seeing Mikleo in person.

He does worry that he is being too straightforward with this, although casts aside this concern when he realises how strongly he believes that Mikleo would not have said yes if this would make him uncomfortable.

There is no hesitation in tapping Mikleo’s name in order to invite him to a call. One second … two … three …

And Sorey’s smile grows wide enough to bear all his teeth.

“Hey!” he says, meeting the eyes of his friend on the other side of the screen. Beautiful eyes, at that.

In fact, though Sorey has already known as such from when he watched Mikleo’s interview over, every single feature on that face is angelic, from the astonishing eyes the colour of amethysts, to a delicate nose; rosebud lips and pale, smooth skin …

“ _Hey,”_ greets this man, a nervous edge to his voice. He is rubbing the back of his neck. _“Sorry if I seem awkward at all. I don’t do this much, especially not with …”_

He doesn’t finish this sentence, although Sorey can easily predict what he had been about to say. Sorey smiles reassuringly.

“Yeah, I understand that. Don’t worry, I’m just like any other guy, really!”

Mikleo hums gently. _“Yeah. I’ve been noticing that. So uh, why did you want to call me, exactly?”_

“Ah, not for anything in particular, really!” says Sorey. “I just thought it’d be good for us to do this. Get a little closer and all that.”

For a few moments, Sorey wonders if he has said the wrong thing. Has he been too forward, or possibly simply said something which makes Mikleo uncomfortable? It is a little difficult to read what exactly Mikleo’s silence means.

Eventually, he speaks. _“I’m a little surprised, really. I thought I’d just be a work partner or something to you.”_

“Well, I certainly see you as a friend.”

“ _I know.”_ A smile, one which causes something to stir in Sorey’s chest, appears on Mikleo’s face. _“And I appreciate it. It shows that you care more than just making a successful book. You’re having fun with this, too.”_

“Absolutely, I’m having a blast!”

“ _As am I.”_

Casual, light chatter follows, simple words about their days and plans around their work. Steadily, Mikleo appears to become more and more comfortable. Soon, it is not Sorey alone who is leading their conversation, but rather Mikleo as well. You might even not be able to guess how their friendship has formed at all.

“ _Can you believe that they even left_ that _out of the movie?”_

“I know! I was furious, it’s like cutting off a leg …”

Normal, everyday chatter which somehow feels far, far more valuable and paramount than it truly is.

And it does continue on as normal, a friendly conversation between two friends, although Sorey’s perspective changes as Mikleo lets his hair down from its ponytail for comfort.

Green eyes widen over how it falls down Mikleo’s back in a curtain of light brown curls, a few streaming over his shoulders. It truly is gorgeous. Smooth and shiny, as though Mikleo attends to it with care. When let down this way, it appears even longer, and the strands which shape Mikleo’s face makes him seem a little younger than when it is pulled away.

“ _What is it?”_ asks Mikleo, blinking those incredible eyes with curiosity.

“You’re beautiful,” says Sorey, not able to hold it back, and not wanting to do so anyway. He is breathless over this angel on the other side of the screen. An angel he wouldn’t have even met, had their paths not intertwined as they have.

 

* * *

 

Vaguely, Mikleo can tell some sort of noise of surprise has left him. Perhaps it might have been “Oh” or something similar. He wouldn’t really know, considering he can only focus on repeating that word continuously.

_Beautiful._

He has been called this a few times. His mother, when she was still here. Friends as well, sometimes those he has attempted to date.

This is a million times different than the latter, however. It is easy to tell when a compliment is being used to get something back. Sorey’s words could not do as such in a thousand years.

“ _Sorry!”_ says Sorey, making Mikleo realise he has taken far too long to say anything coherent. _“Was that a bit too forward of me?”_

“No, not at all,” says Mikleo quickly. His eyes flicker to his own image in the corner of the screen. How can someone’s face grow this red over something so simple? And of course, the moment you grow embarrassed over noticing this, you may blush even _more,_ before you have finally convinced the other person that you’re a living, breathing tomato―

“ _I have a habit of saying what’s on my mind_ way _too easily sometimes.”_

“It’s fine, really,” says Mikleo. He adds, both quietly and rushed, “And uh, thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

He’s―he’s _what―?_

That simply had to slip out. Mikleo prepares to die on the spot, although is quick to think otherwise when he receives a wide grin off Sorey.

“ _Thank you!”_

He is the sun. He truly, truly is.

A silence has fallen. Though it is awkward, Mikleo finds it useful in focusing his attention on causing his heart to calm down. It is racing wildly in his chest.

People say that falling for someone is gradual, it never happens in an instant, and Mikleo can agree. The realisation of such, however, can be instant.

Because as Sorey finally continues their conversation for them, returning to normal as though complimenting Mikleo is natural to him, Mikleo realises that his typical celebrity crush has crossed the line and has entered a far new category altogether.

“Sorey?”

“ _Mm?”_ says Sorey, humming through a mouthful of biscuit. It brings a smile to Mikleo’s face; that is a sight saved only for those who know Sorey more than simply through the eyes of a fan.

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone, hasn’t it? Romantically, I mean.”

The words spill out before Mikleo can even take hold of them. Luckily, it doesn’t seem to strike Sorey as odd for Mikleo to be questioning this.

“ _Yeah, I decided to have a break to focus on writing,”_ says Sorey once he swallows. _“How come?”_

Momentary panic arises, although Mikleo is surprisingly quick to calm himself. “I uh, I suppose I was just curious. Considering I can imagine there’s only so much you say to the press.”

Sorey hums. _“Yeah, that’s probably true! But I’m actually pretty open about a lot of things, including whether or not I’m dating someone―as long as they’re okay with it, obviously.”_

“I’ve noticed that,” says Mikleo.

He wishes he can say more. How the insight to Sorey’s life has helped him more than he can say, how Sorey never putting a curtain over the negatives allowed Mikleo to realise that everyone goes through struggles, even when you are as positive of a person as Sorey is.

And Mikleo wants to be a part of this life, more than he is so now. Mere minutes of speaking have given him this realisation, though as much as he wishes it could escalate to reality, he is doubtful that such a thing could ever occur.


	5. Just Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and Mikleo are reaching the end of their project. The latter is hit with disappointment and sadness when he realises this is the case. Soon, however, he is to realise that this doesn't mean that everything has to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your feedback, I truly appreciate it!
> 
> When I said this is a long one, I really wasn't lying. I channelled my inner Swear on Counted Stars accidentally. Seriously, isn't this meant to be a side fic for a break? Pfft.  
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy. I haven't yet managed to start the final chapter, however I still aim to have it up next Saturday as always!

Sorey quietly hums to himself as he sifts through the printed pieces of paper in his hands. All the while, a smile cannot leave his face.

He and Mikleo seem to have the same incredible work ethic. Both are brimming with motivation for this project, and are able to build each other up whenever this motivated attitude falters. How well they work in harmony has only become more and more obvious as time as gone on.

With this admirable perseverance and positive attitudes, they have managed to reach far enough into the project that the end is in sight.

As soon as Sorey has confirmed that their first draft is all set, as well as Dezel adjusting final design plans, it will be off to the editing stage. In his experience, Sorey has found that this phase has never gone on for all that long. He seems to have a knack for achieving quality first time.

This means that his publication, the start of a whole new world of his literature, is almost right within his grasp.

On Sorey’s end, he and Alisha will be working together on editing what he has written, correcting any potential areas and seeing what needs to be changed, deleted and added. Mikleo will be working alongside Dezel in order to check his artwork for errors.

He seems to be even further in disbelief than Sorey is that they have approached the end. Sorey assumes that this is the first time Mikleo has ever worked on something so huge. However, Sorey cannot help but wonder if Mikleo has been down. His messages seem normal, yet whenever Sorey speaks to him on the phone, there is something in his voice suggesting that reaching towards the end of their project is causing disappointment for a reason Sorey does not yet understand.

“I don’t know what it could be,” says Sorey, sipping a glass of water. “I mean, we’re right at the end now … I know that _I’m_ thrilled.”

“Surely he’s at least a bit excited?” asks Alisha.

“Yeah, of course. He just seems a bit sad too, I guess.”

“I thought the reason why would be obvious.” Rose sighs as the pair look at her. “What? Don’t look at me like that. He’s probably just sad that the two of you won’t be working on something together anymore, that’s all.”

Sorey lets out a noise of recognition, immediately making sense of Mikleo’s recent behaviour. “Oh … I haven’t really thought that far ahead, honestly. I’ve just been thinking about how it’ll feel to have copies of the novel finally in my hands, and about signings and all that after.”

“I suppose you understand his disappointment now that you’ve realised the cause,” says Alisha. Sorey nods, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I’m feeling a bit down myself over the thought, really,” he says.

For a moment, he remains silent, unable to stop his mind thinking back. The moment where he first saw Mikleo’s artwork, wondering if it is possible to fall in love with someone from the strokes of paint they bless a blank canvas with. The first time they emailed, before such a thing seemed far too sophisticated, and they texted instead.

They smile, their eyes radiant with thrill as they bounce ideas off one another, giving praise and criticism over the work they send one another. When one is not feeling their best and are drained with their work, they receive persistent persuasions to rest and return to their work the following day.

And then one day, Sorey heard Mikleo’s voice on the phone for the first time, and his heart swelled with an emotion far grander than any he has ever felt. Seeing him over Skype also had the same effect.

He would hate to let it all go the day that their project reaches its end.

Although he realises that nothing will have to stop simply because _this_ project has to end.

“Actually, it’s fine,” says Sorey, sitting up straighter. “This won’t be all we do, I’m sure. I mean, I don’t want to make this the last visual novel I write! And I definitely don’t want this to be the last project we do, either.”

“I also doubt your friendship will simply end from finishing this novel together,” says Alisha.

“Nah, there’s no chance of that!” Rose agrees. “I bet you’re going to continue talking to each other regardless, right?”

Sorey nods. “Obviously! Besides, I know a number of people who are interested in Mikleo’s work as well, too. I’ll have to pass on some contact details and all of that.”

Smiling, Alisha says, “You know, you truly have changed his life. We all knew it’d happen when you said that one of your biggest priorities was finding an artist who hasn’t had their chance yet. But actually _seeing_ all of this play out … It’s made me far happier for Mikleo than I realised it would.”

“I’d say, especially with how much he deserves it!” says Rose.

“He definitely does,” says Sorey, smiling warmly to himself. His eyes fall down, flipping over a page to find one of Mikleo’s illustrations.

If there is anything that Mikleo excels at, if you had to narrow it down to a single thing, it is portraying emotion. The scene he has captured here portrays this perfectly. The kiss he has painted doesn’t feel awkward in the slightest, with their bodies stiff, hands unsure of where to go.

Their lips do not touch; Mikleo has envisioned the moment right before they meet, a moment which to Sorey, gives off far more emotion than the actual kiss can do so. The smaller of the two stands on his toes in order to reach the other, hands resting on the other’s chest. The latter’s hands bury themselves in long, silver curls.

You can sense their love, their gentle affection yet burning passion, that which has developed over the journey the two have created together.

In fact, perhaps it might be because of how close to their hearts this work has become, and how much Sorey has fawned over that which Mikleo has drawn, but he has began to see resemblance between these two characters and their creators.

He swears that his heart yearns for him to kiss Mikleo in this way as well.

And this instant realisation, the moment he realises that his bond with Mikleo is far more special than he originally thought it will become, grants him a warmth that he has not experienced for a long time.

“I think I’m going to ask him soon,” he says. “If he wants to come to Rolance, I mean. I’d like him to be there for when we open the copies of our novel for the first time.”

“So you’d finally be meeting him for the first time, for _real!”_ says Rose.

“Oh, that’d be wonderful,” says Alisha. “I do hope he says yes. This celebrity crush we’ve speculated hasn’t quite disappeared yet though, in my opinion … Perhaps he might be too nervous.”

Sorey doesn’t fall victim to her teasing. Instead, he says, “I hope that his crush hasn’t gone away, if he had one.”

By the time Alisha and Rose have realised what he has said, he has already began to jog out of the room, calling how he better get in the shower. The two women exchange a glance before they shout after him, demanding to know what he means by his words.

Although it’s not as though they require an explanation. Sorey’s eyes, shining even more than they do usually, have said it all as the bond between him and Mikleo has strengthened.

 

* * *

 

With a sigh, Mikleo settles himself back on Zavied and Eizen’s sofa, accepting the water that Edna practically shoves in his face.

Whoever says that editing is the easy part is a demon. They must be. It is quicker, yes, but speed certainly doesn’t determine the difficulty level. His eyes are stinging from how much he has stared at each and every painting he has created for Sorey, before repeating the process all over again.

Others may not be able to see the tiny errors of colours which have not been blended properly or an edge which has a _slight_ slither of messiness, however Mikleo knows they are there, and anxiety tells him that there will be at least one annoying person who will bring the novel right up to their eye trying to find what is wrong in Mikleo’s work.

In all fairness, there _has_ been a number of times he has actually corrected something worth fixing. Having Dezel’s help, who works part time with Sorey and assists in design work, has been a blessing. He has found that he’s become a lot more open and less sensitive to criticism now through their partnership.

“How are you getting on, there?” asks Eizen, who lifts Edna up to settle himself down on the sofa. Mikleo glances at her irritably as she rests her feet on his lap.

“Fine, I think,” says Mikleo, placing down the piece of paper. He sips his water as he does so. “I’m getting faster at looking over and finding what needs to be sorted.”

“You really are almost done with this now, aren’t you?” asks Zaveid, settling down besides them as well now he has retrieved a can of lager. Mikleo nods, his previous enthusiasm fading as his form becomes visibly smaller.

He cannot say that this journey with Sorey has gone perfectly smoothly. It’s working on a novel; of course there are going to be bumps in the road. Yet overall, away from those moments of stress and anxieties over whether he should be working alongside after all, it has been one of the most joyous experiences of his life.

The two have worked quickly, managing to get through their work in just over half a year. This period of time seems far, far shorter than it is in reality. It seems that it had only been days ago when Mikleo had held his phone tightly in both hands, reduced to tears when the realisation that he has won finally settled in him.

He remembers how he had been before working with Sorey. Far less confident for sure, almost too insecure to apply in the first place. How glad he is that this never got the better of him. He has managed to achieve a pride in both himself and his work that he never thought existed, and he has improved as well along the way.

Others have commented on how happier he has been. He himself sees it even in the smallest of things. How when he swings his legs over the side of the bed after he wakes, he notices that he is smiling, excited for what the day will bring. Sometimes he hums as he butters his toast, or sings in the shower, and he has felt a far larger longing to be around friends.

This project has done a world of good, beyond how he is more financially stable and is working alongside his favourite author.

To see it reaching its end brings him a sense of loss. He fears what comes after.

Sorey is no longer that unreachable person, someone Mikleo thinks he will never be able to speak to. The person whose Mikleo’s love for has become far more than the simple admiration of a fan.

And Mikleo cannot bear the thought of being unable to reach him once again.

“What’s made you look all depressed?” asks Edna, lifting her foot and bringing it back down on Mikleo’s leg. He rubs it without a comment; a true sign of his onset of sadness.

“I just don’t want any of this to end,” he says, letting out a humourless laugh, feeling awfully dramatic for saying such a thing. But then again, if he allowed himself to smile and say that everything is fine, he would only be lying.

“Who says it’s gotta end?” says Zaveid. “I’m sure that the two of you would stay in touch.”

“I don’t know why he would, once this is published,” he says. He glances between the trio when they collectively sigh. “What?”

“Meebo can’t tell that Sorey utterly adores him,” she says.

“Probably has that dude thinking about him at night by now,” Zaveid adds.

“Don’t be silly,” Mikleo mumbles, leaning back against the sofa. He hopes that no one look at his face. He hopes even more that the heat he feels in it is not visible. “He’s been in contact with me for the project. As soon as that ends …”

“You’re telling me that the only time Sorey talks to you is for when you’re working on the novel?” asks Eizen. Mikleo’s mouth opens, closes again, and opens once more.

“W-Well, that’s—”

“Haven’t the two of you been Skyping each other a lot lately?” says Zaveid.

“And have been chatting pretty much all day, everyday?” says Edna.

“I mean, I guess, but—”

“Working together on a piece of art this way has made you closer,” says Eizen. “Yet away from that, the two of you have clearly bonded. Not only do I think that this is probably not the only time that Sorey will want to work with you, I also think that Sorey will want to remain friends.”

“Or more,” says Zaveid.

“Stop teasing,” says Mikleo, letting out a groan. Regardless, there is no denying the smile on his face. “All right, I guess you guys are right. I’ve just … It’s helped me a lot, working on this with him. I’m scared of what will happen once it’s over.”

“You’ll have more opportunities to obtain, that’s what will happen,” says Eizen.

“You’re practically famous now. I mean, your follower count has gone up tenfold, and you’ve had job offers, right?” asks Edna. “So there you go. You’ve probably not noticed with how heart-eyed you are with Sorey, but you’re living a whole new life now. Congrats.”

“I guess I haven’t thought much about the more positive things that come after,” says Mikleo. “Thanks, guys.”

“The Three Musketeers have your back as always,” says Zaveid, patting Mikleo on the back. Mikleo chuckles from amusement, as he always does over that name.

Really though, as much as he could never admit such a thing aloud, he does see this to be more and more fitting as time goes on. After all, he is not sure on where he’d be if he didn’t have these three by his side.

They have continuously supported him, given him the encouragement he needs in order to better himself and move himself forward. He doubts that he would have gotten this far without them.

He could thank them and thank them for the rest of his life, yet not once feel as though it is enough.

“Truly though Mikleo, I’m excited for this novel that you’ve done,” says Eizen, sliding pieces of paper across the coffee table in order for him to be able to see each of them. “I’ve enjoyed a few of Sorey’s books myself, and thinking of how that writing will be when combined with your artwork excites me. I can’t wait to see it.”

“I’m not much of a reader, but I’m definitely picking this one up!” says Zaveid.

“Ditto,” adds Edna. The praise of his friends causes the smile on Mikleo’s face to grow, although he covers it with the back of his hand.

“All of you are way too sappy, it’s out of character,” he says instead, earning a few amused grins and a laugh from Zaveid.

“Anyway, we need to head out and go get the car sorted,” says Eizen. He glances at Mikleo and Edna; due to how often they swing by Zaveid and Eizen’s place as though it is simply another one of their own, particularly with Edna, it’s strange to remember at times that this _is_ in fact Zaveid and Eizen’s only. “You can both stay here if you want.”

“Was going to anyway,” says Edna. Eizen rolls his eyes, although there is a fond smile on his face. He never grows tired over how his and Edna’s bond has never once faltered over the years.

Zaveid ruffles both of their hair as he passes by them to head out of the living room, having to dodge from a cushion that Edna throws his way. He throws it back—softer, so that Edna can catch it easily—and gives the pair one last grin before he leaves as well.

“Just you and me, then,” says Edna, leaning back. “Want to do anything?”

“Honestly, I should be doing this,” Mikleo responds, leaning back over the printed sheets on the coffee table.

“I figured as much.” Mikleo is glad to hear that there is no irritation in her voice; the last thing he wants is for his friends to think that he is ignoring them for the sake of his work, or is overworking himself again, or that combination of both which lacks sensibility. “Muse would be proud of you, you know.”

The name causes him to freeze. Not so much because it is a name of taboo; he simply loses all sense of motion whenever it is uttered, his mind unable to create thoughts for a moment.

His smile is bittersweet. For the thought of this being the case brings joy to his heart, certain that this is true. She had never stopped being proud of him. He knows that would be the exact same now, should she still be here to see what he is doing.

“Thank you, Edna,” he finally manages to say. His fingers run over the paper; how he wishes she could be here to say those words herself, and to be the one figure in his life who accepts him.

He tries to not focus on this so much usually. It has already been a long time, after all. Yet losing someone you love brings grief that will never quite disappear, and losing a mother in particular is harsher than anything.

“I’m sorry, Mikleo,” says Edna. “I didn’t mean to upset you by saying that. I just wanted you to know that she really would be proud of what you’re doing.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I really do appreciate you telling me that. I think I’ve just been wishing sub-consciously that she was here right now, to watch what I’m doing.”

“Throughout all this stuff with the visual novel, you mean,” says Edna. Mikleo nods.

“It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before, and is _definitely_ the biggest thing I’ve ever done in my life. It would’ve been amazing for her to be able to see it all.”

“I agree. Who knows though, maybe she’s watching you right now. I don’t know if I believe in all that afterlife kind of stuff, but hey, who am I to say it’s not real?”

Mikleo smiles, his eyes glancing upwards, as though he can see beyond the ceiling above his head and into the heavens far beyond. “You really never know. I especially hope that, when …”

He shakes his head. He hopes that Edna is able to tell that this means he’d rather her not comment.

This appears to be the case, although there is no denying the way that her eyes bear concern, and even anger on his behalf somewhere inside.

Mikleo startles as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulls it out, a smile stretching on his face. He doesn’t even have to the say the name which is on his screen for Edna to guess what he is reading.

“Have fun with your crush,” says Edna, getting up off the sofa.

“Crush? What am I, twelve?” Mikleo asks under his breath. He speaks loud enough for Edna to hear; she has a smirk on her face as she exits the room. Rolling his eyes, Mikleo answers the call and puts the phone to his ear. “Good afternoon, Sorey.”

“ _Hey, Mikleo! How are you doing?”_

“I’m good, thank you. Just been looking over my work for corrections; I think it’s near enough done.”

Sorey lets out a small cheer. _“That’s awesome! I know this editing stage can be_ really _tedious … I’m used to it, but I’ve been wondering how you’ve been yourself. Seems like both of us will be done in no time!”_

“It’s a strange thought,” says Mikleo. His previous disappointment slowly begins to return. He swallows, wondering what it would be like to not hear this voice on the other side of the phone everyday. It has been incomparable to simply hearing Sorey’s voice recorded in an interview.

“ _I can imagine. I’m definitely accustomed to the publishing stage, but it’s even a bit weird for me. I mean, I’ve never had_ artwork _be involved like this! I can’t wait to see how it’s all going to look together!”_

“Me neither,” says Mikleo. Truthfully, because even with his emotions over the thought of what everything will be like once this is all over, he is still thrilled when he remembers that he will be part of a published book at the end of all this.

“ _It’s going to be great … Speaking of which, there’s something I have to ask you in regards to this.”_

“What is it?”

He can practically hear Sorey’s grinning. _“So basically, I_ really _want you to be here for the signings. I mean, I know that there’s been many other visual novelists and comic writers who don’t give the credit that every person involved deserved, but I don’t want to be like that. You’re just as important to this story as I am, and I couldn’t do it without you.”_

“That’s very kind of you,” says Mikleo. Despite how he expected this would be the case, his heart still beats faster with nerves; he is not quite sure of how comfortable he is with the thought of being at one of these signings.

A minor one? Yes, that’d be fine. But no signing of Sorey’s would be merely _minor._ They are often filled with people, countless individuals who have related to Sorey’s writing in the same way that Mikleo has, and the thought is overwhelming.

Although he does question if it’s those fans, or simply meeting Sorey himself, that makes him the most nervous.

“And I definitely want to be part of it,” Mikleo adds hurriedly, wondering if his pause has convinced Sorey otherwise.

“ _I’m glad! But … Well, on the same kind of topic, this book is as much yours as it is mine. I don’t want to go through more stages than you, as though I’m more deserving of it. So I was wondering if you’d like to maybe head over to Rolance for when we get our first box of samples? I always get them in advance to the larger publication I use for signings naturally, just to check if everything looks good and so I can hand out samples to friends. And I want you to be a part of opening them up for the first time!”_

“Oh.”

Mikleo wants to slap himself for such a stupid response. He simply cannot think of what else to say. Somehow among all his other storm of emotions, varying from the most amazing joy to disappointment which could bring him to tears should he not always hold them back, he has managed to forget that this is an event in store as well.

And he realises this means he will meet Sorey far sooner.

“ _Sorry, I probably threw too much on you at once here!”_

“No no, it’s fine,” Mikleo says quickly. “I think it’s just … I hadn’t really expected to meet you until we had the signings. If I was going to be part of that, anyway.”

“ _Yeah, I thought that might have been the case,”_ says Sorey. _“I just … I really don’t want you to be left out. Opening your book for the first time is incredible, and I want you to experience it. With me I mean, rather than just get sent a single copy after I’ve already opened them.”_

Mikleo cannot help but smile gently over this words. Both because of how he appreciates Sorey wanting to involve him in this moment, grateful for that thoughtfulness. But also because he can perfectly imagine how Sorey appears each time.

He cannot help but wonder how it had been the first time Sorey received his debut novel, after all his years of struggle, and the way he must have smiled as brightly as the sun.

Mikleo does want to experience the same emotion for himself.

“I suppose it’d be in about a month or two from now, judging on where we are with the editing stage,” says Mikleo, his fingers on his spare hand fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. He notices how the palm is lined with a sheer layer of sweat, and clenches the shirt gently.

“ _Yeah, about that! My publisher is always right on time, legit I don’t know where I’d be without them …”_ Sorey pauses for a moment, his voice excitable once he speaks again, as though he has come to a realisation. _“Wait, does that mean that you’re going to come?!”_

Mikleo nods, despite how Sorey can’t see this. “I … I think so. Yeah, why not? I mean, it seems to be an important moment of the journey. I know that I’d receive my own copy as well, so I guess it’d still be similar. But … yeah, I think I’d want to look at it all the same time as you do and everything.”

“ _I was hoping you’d say that,”_ says Sorey. _“I can’t wait to meet you! I’m so used to actually_ seeing _who I work with—away from a screen, I mean—that it’s been strange at times not having that option with you. I’d be great to finally see you at last.”_

“I agree with you.”

He does more than merely agree. The thought causes his stomach to do backflips in his body. His heart may be beating so loudly it will come straight out of his chest.

He is almost far more nervous than any other moment during this journey. Yet simultaneously, his curious, youthful heart still longs for this path, to take another leap.

And when he hears Sorey’s, _“Awesome!”_ and his enthusiastic tone, just as excited as Mikleo is beyond his anxiety, he knows that he has made the right choice.

 

* * *

 

The station is crowded. It appears that Mikleo may have chosen a time where workers commute to work on the train, for all around him is the bustling of people. Friends chatter as they head towards the train they have to board, parents shout at their children and tell them to not stray too far and the wheels of suitcases pound against the ground.

At least Mikleo has a talent for making himself smaller and weaving his way through crowds. Soon, he is breaking out from the station, breathing in the air of Pendrago’s capital.

Sorey has offered to meet him here. Mikleo _almost_ said yes, although he decided that this would make his train journey here even more overwhelming. Besides, he has been to Pendrago on a number of occasions, even if it has been a while. Much of it is familiar to him.

Apparently, Sorey’s home—where he does all his work—is not too far from the station. A twenty minute walk appeals to Mikleo when he convinces himself that it would be a good excuse to clear his mind and nerves as he makes his way over there.

Of course, away from this more confident attitude, he knows that this is not true in the slightest and that anxiety will be with him with every step.

To say he is not also practically trembling with anticipation would be a lie, however. He cannot wait for a number of things. To see the first stock of their book, to meet Sorey’s staff and, of course, to meet Sorey himself. Even if Mikleo has admittedly avoided doing that now for several years.

Mikleo breathes out, watching the sky above his head. Silently, he wishes that he will not make a fool of himself. If there is anything that would make him jump right on the train back home, it would be this.

He is a calm and collected individual. Lailah has, in fact, described him as cool-headed as water on a number of occasions. In contrast to this, however, he is also easily flustered and often finds himself in awkward predicaments where he is too embarrassed to do anything but fumble over words.

He curses whoever made him this way.

Regardless, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. This is a strange feeling. The person he has only ever met over screens will finally be in front of him, in reality.

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _I’ve just got off the train now. I should be there before too long.’_

 

The reply only takes a minute.

 

**Sorey**

‘ _That’s awesome, I can’t wait! Don’t worry about grabbing food on your way here by the way, Dezel is working on a miniature feast for us ♪’_

 

**Mikleo**

‘ _Mm, I wouldn’t say no to that. Travelling makes me starving.’_

 

**Sorey**

‘ _Then you’re going to love what he’s making us, trust me! He’s a great cook!”_

 

Mikleo smiles, unsure of if Sorey’s messages bring him _more_ nerves or if it helps ease them. Either way, nothing feels real.

It still doesn’t seem as such when he makes it to Sorey’s street.

The houses here are not so expensive-looking that Mikleo would come to believe that Sorey is a millionaire, however they’re certainly nice enough that Mikleo feels a little insecure about his own place. He cannot exactly imagine living in a property he hasn’t rented.

Saying that, with how supportive and charming Sorey has been for this entire journey, Mikleo highly doubts that it will all go away simply because Mikleo lives in a rather small apartment.

_Number ten … twelve … thirteen …_

He counts the house numbers in his head. One by one, he gets closer. And before he knows it, he is stood in front of the property which belongs to Sorey.

For a time he cannot tell, possibly for a few minutes at least, he can only stand in place. It is not even completely from fear; although he’d be lying to say this is not one of the many emotions he is experiencing as he stands here.

He is bewildered. The man he has pored over the novels of, who Mikleo has appreciated and admired for the last several years, lives in this very house. A place which Mikleo thought he would never once be able to see with his own eyes.

He replays the past, flashing through it in his mind, wondering how on Earth every choice he has made has linked together and led him to this moment.

The gate creaks as he opens it. The sound brings him back to Sorey’s novel of 2015, where this sound had resounded on a cold, stormy night.

His eyes take in the sight of flowerbeds which bless a well kept garden. Back in 2016, the protagonist had picked similar flowers by a river, with the plan on handing them over to the mermaid she had fallen in love with.

It seems as though every single piece of what is in Mikleo’s vision can lead him to another world, one he has already visited through Sorey’s words.

A deep exhale escapes his lips as he stands outside the door. He raises his hand, staring at the oak door in front of him. He hesitates, before he knocks twice.

Part of him wishes that Sorey will not hear it, although Mikleo casts this aside and stands his ground.

It opens. And Mikleo is greeted with the gorgeous smile he has only been able to see on screen so far.

“Hey, Mikleo!” exclaims Sorey. Sorey, in person. His voice not simply over the phone.

Mikleo might very well faint.

“Hey,” he says, wondering how he can speak without a shake to his voice. “Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“Nah, not at all!” Sorey steps to the side. “Come in. You can leave your shoes and coat with the others.”

Mikleo nods, thanking Sorey as he steps inside. His eyes glance around the room, although as soon as the door is shut after them, he cannot stop himself from bringing his attention back to Sorey.

The man appears as casual as his personality. Slightly untamed hair shaped into natural spikes, a line of faint stubble across his cheeks, a hoodie worn over slightly baggy jeans …

Every part of it is so _him._ Mikleo is glad now that Edna talked him out of dressing too smartly and instead opt for a nice shirt and skinny jeans underneath his winter coat.

“We already know each other, but hey, this is the first time meeting in person,” says Sorey, holding out his hand. “So it’s nice to meet you!”

With a smile of disbelief, Mikleo takes Sorey’s hand. Though the skin is wonderfully warm, Mikleo doubts this is what causes the heat in his chest. “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

He holds on slightly longer than he would have liked, making him fumble from embarrassment slightly as he removes his shoes and coat. He places them to the side, glancing back up to Sorey, who is watching him with a smile.

In reality, there is likely only several inches between their heights, yet it somehow feels like far much more.

How has Mikleo not fainted yet?

“Come on, I’ll come introduce you,” says Sorey. “Then we can open up the novels!”

“Have they already arrived, then?” asks Mikleo.

“Yup, earlier today! I’m so excited!”

“As am I,” says Mikleo, smiling back at him.

As Sorey heads in front of Mikleo to lead him through the house, a hand lingers on his shoulder for a moment so fleeting that Mikleo could have missed it.

“Here he is, guys!” Sorey exclaims, gesturing to Mikleo at the open living room door. “Meet Mikleo!”

“Thanks for having me,” says Mikleo. His eyes land on the trio which sits inside the room; the woman he knows is Rose, a blonde he assumes is Alisha, and a tanned man with dark hair he is not quite as familiar with.

“You’re finally here!” Rose exclaims. “It’s nice to finally meet ya in person.”

“Hello, Mikleo,” says Alisha. “You’ll naturally already know Rose, right? I’m Alisha, and this is Dezel.”

The tall man raises his hand in greeting. “We’ve heard a lot about you from Sorey,” he says.

“I see,” says Mikleo, unsure of what to feel by knowing such a thing. It is only natural for Sorey to mention the artist he has partnered up with, although his heart still flutters regardless.

It seems to beat right out of his chest completely when Rose adds, “Doesn’t shut up, actually! Do you, Sorey?”

Sorey lets out a laugh—a pure, beautiful laugh—as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, what do you expect? He’s a great artist!”

His smile is directed at Mikleo. The subtle shift in it, almost as though it has grown slightly teasing, appears when he seems to notice Mikleo’s face reddening, although this could also completely be Mikleo’s hopeful imagination.

Wait, hopeful?

“Anyway, I wanna get around to opening up the books!” exclaims Sorey, his energy reminding Mikleo of a child on Christmas morning.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” says Alisha. “We all want to see them!”

Sorey does not have to be told twice. He grins, immediately reaching over for a pair of scissors. Dezel has already lifted the box and placed it on the coffee table. Turning around to Mikleo, Sorey gestures for him to come closer, and he does so immediately.

Accepting Sorey’s invitation has not simply been to meet him, after all; Mikleo is filled with just as much anticipation over what is inside.

“All right,” says Sorey, opening up the scissors and bringing the tip of one blade down onto the tape. He slices down through it, the flaps of the box now loose. Resting his fingertips on one, he meets Mikleo’s eyes. “Ready?”

Mikleo nods, placing his fingers down on the other side of the box. “Ready.”

Together, they lift each side of the cardboard. Collective gasps and awed sighs merge together. In all of their glory are towers and towers of their book inside, their covers gleaming and brand new; the beautiful blends of indigo and azure blue make all of the books appear as though they’re a gorgeous ocean for them to dive into.

“ _Yes!”_ Sorey exclaims, lifting up one of the books, a dazzling smile on his face. It’s brought right above his head. “Look how awesome they look!”

“You’ve done it again!” Rose says, clapping him on the back.

Mikleo remains silent through their exclamations. In his hands is his own copy of the book. He runs his fingers over the surface, smooth to touch, eyes taking in the sight of his illustration on the cover, edited professionally by Dezel. Never, in the whole of his life, has Mikleo felt prouder than this.

He blinks when he feels an arm wrap around his shoulders.

“Pretty awesome, huh?” asks Sorey, grinning down at him. “The first time seeing your work be published?”

Mikleo nods, a smile on his face. “I’m not usually one to say this, but … it’s _so_ damn cool.”

“Right?!”

“Are you both actually going to open it, or are you only going to stare at the cover all day?” Alisha asks with amusement.

“I’m getting there, bear with me!” says Sorey. Mikleo laughs lightly, he and Sorey opening the book simultaneously.

It is only now as Mikleo flicks through the pages that he truly comprehends where this journey has lead him. Before him are Sorey’s words, the very words he has fallen in love with, writing out yet another beautiful story.

Yet among them are Mikleo’s paintings. They illustrate another world of Sorey’s that Mikleo has fallen in love with, describe exactly what he and Sorey imagine through what he has written. And not only is his artwork there, but it fits perfectly. It is natural for his work to be here among Sorey’s writing.

He belongs here, in publication. His work matters.

Before he applied, or even in the first stages after, he would have never believed he could experience such an emotion. He is giddy with excitement and new possibilities, adrenaline caused by unfamiliar confidence running through his veins, all because he can see his artwork here, printed in front of him by the writing of his favourite author.

This is the sort of story you would think only exists in movies. It is Mikleo’s reality.

“Huh? Are you crying?”

Mikleo blinks over Sorey’s words. He brings his attention to his face, realising that he _can_ indeed feel the slight wetness of a couple of tears. Ashamed, he wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand quickly.

“S-Sorry,” he says. “I just … You have no idea how much it means to me.”

Not when neither of these people know exactly all he has been through to get to this moment. The fact that not once has he had a reason to _truly_ be proud of himself, that this is the first time he has felt like he has accomplished something.

It is the first time he can say that his mother is watching him with pride.

“Of course we do,” says Alisha reassuringly.

“Yeah, I almost cried too during my first time!” says Sorey. “The only reason why I didn’t is because Rose would have teased the hell out of me if she found out.”

Mikleo manages an amused smile. “Sounds a bit like Edna.”

“I’m going to go finish off the food,” says Dezel, bringing his attention to Rose and Alisha. “Would you both like to come and watch how you’re _meant_ to cook?”

“As long as you keep Rose far away from the oven, so she doesn’t burn down the house,” says Alisha, laughing as Rose gives her a shove.

Moments later, they have left the room, leaving Sorey and Mikleo alone, still standing with a book in either of their hands.

“Dezel sure is more caring than he lets on,” says Sorey, smiling over in the direction of the door. “Seems like he wanted to give us some space.”

Mikleo nods slowly, bringing the book in his hands slightly closer to him. He sneaks a glance at Sorey.

How he has lasted so long only looking at that man in photos, he will never know.

“Come and sit down,” Sorey proceeds to offer. He settles himself down on the sofa, Mikleo soon following. “It’s a bit overwhelming, right?”

“I suppose so,” says Mikleo. He follows Sorey down onto the sofa, still staring at the book in his hands. “A lot of things are.”

“You’re happy though, right?”

Mikleo nods, finally bringing his gaze up from the book to Sorey. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

Sorey’s eyes light up. “I’m glad to hear it. Honestly, out of all the people who I felt like deserved this opportunity, you’re the one who deserves it the most. I mean, obviously I felt that way when I was choosing on the person who won. But I’ve come to see it more as time has gone on.”

A tongue running over Mikleo’s lip, he diverts his gaze back to the book. “This has honestly changed my life,” he says quietly. “So I just … I really can’t quite express how much this means to me.”

He swallows, feeling the lump in his throat return, as though he could very well cry again. Rather than embrace the tears, he is distracted by something else entirely; Sorey’s arms wrapping around him to bring him into a hug. Something else which could bring him to tears for a different reason completely.

It feels normal. Natural, as though the friendship the two have built over the course of almost a year has been in person, rather than this be the first time they have seen each other.

“It’s really not a problem,” says Sorey.

Mikleo smiles, allowing himself to hug Sorey back. He feels warm, so much so that he wishes he could stay here for an eternity.

That is certainly not the attitude of a mere crush.

“And I hope you know that this doesn’t mean an end is put to everything, you know.”

This causes Mikleo to pull back, staring at Sorey with both hope and disbelief. “So it’s … This isn’t really just a one time thing, then? Like we can stay friends?”

“Of course we can,” says Sorey. “Who do you take me for, befriending you like this as we work together and then just deciding that I’ve had enough? You know I’m not like that!”

Mikleo chuckles softly. “Yeah, I suppose not. I think I’ve just been fearing that once this is over, that’s it. All the time we’ve spent will just be forgotten.”

“Nah, definitely not. You mean way more to me now than just being a colleague, I promise.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Really.” His eyes glancing down at his hands, his voice becomes softer, almost vulnerable. “I … I haven’t always had the best experiences with people sticking around. I guess I thought even after how much closer we’ve become, you might be the same. Especially when you’re as popular as you are.”

A silence falls for a moment, Mikleo’s eyes fixed on how his nails fidget with each other. He wonders if he has said too much. Then again, Sorey is so welcoming, so understanding, that Mikleo feels as though he can say anything in the other’s presence, and it will all be okay.

Those green eyes, far more gorgeous than what a mere lens can capture, watch him expectedly, telling him that it is okay to continue if he so wants to.

“Do you want to talk about it?” says Sorey, seeming to understand that despite how overjoyed Mikleo is, there are some things which are stopping him from embracing the height of this pride completely.

And he is correct in thinking so.

“I haven’t had many people be proud of me for a long time,” Mikleo begins. “I don’t just mean with the struggling to get noticed thing and everything. Outside of close friends, I don’t have anyone. Not really, anyway.”

His eyes take in the book which still rests on his lap. Far away in his mind, he remembers poring over picture books as he settles on his mother’s knee, enchanted by all the illustrations there.

Illustrations of worlds he wish he could have escaped into when he watched her die on her deathbed.

“My mother died when I was nine,” says Mikleo. “She was the person I was closest to more than anyone. I never knew my father, and I’ve always been a bit anxious about meeting other people. Once she was gone, there were few I could open up to, until I met my best friend Edna.”

“Who did you go to, once she was gone?” asks Sorey, his voice gentle.

“My uncle. He was nice enough to go to, definitely better than foster care, but things still weren’t the best.”

Mikleo stops himself from saying more, accustomed to not allowing himself to open up, although his eyes avert to Sorey when a hand rests on his shoulder.

Of course Sorey would understand.

“You’d know my story, wouldn’t you?” he asks. “About how my mom died too, and that my dad didn’t accept me when I came out, so I had to go to my gramps?”

Mikleo nods. “I do. And I’m sorry.”

Sorey forces a smile, his thumb rubbing into Mikleo’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s fine. I mean, it still hurts at times, but I mentioned that to remind you that I understand. It’s tough for people like us. And I’d hate for you to bottle things up and stop yourself from being as happy as you could be because you’re thinking over this stuff.”

Mikleo nods slowly, thankful for the reassurance. “My uncle just was never really supportive about anything,” he says. “I mean, not completely. It’s a bit hard to explain. But with my art journey, he hated the thought of me apparently wasting intelligence by going down this field instead. When it was only a hobby, it was fine, but the moment I showed signs of wanting to do it as a career, he tried to convince me otherwise.”

“And I suppose for a while, as you were struggling to be successful, you began to believe he was right?” says Sorey, Mikleo nodding.

“Definitely. I can see now that he wasn’t, but for a while, I really did think that I should have listened to him, that I should have gone down a different path. Then when I came out, things only seemed to get worse between us.”

Mikleo is silent for a moment. His mind takes him back to all of the shouting and tears, the misunderstandings, the sound of the door slamming as he finally had enough at age eighteen and left to fend for himself in the world.

“He didn’t accept it, obviously,” says Mikleo. “I don’t think he really _got_ it. He thought I might have been confused, had internalised misogyny, perhaps even disconnected from being female because of having a deceased mother.” He leans back against the sofa, chuckling humourlessly under his breath. “So naturally, when I told him I know I’m trans, needed to transition and could never be happy not doing so, he didn’t understand whatsoever. And for two years, up until I was eighteen, I put up with that until I could legally do anything I wanted without him stopping me.”

“So you left,” says Sorey, “in order for you to be able to do what you needed.”

Mikleo nods. “I went to Edna and Eizen. They have always been supportive of me. I just wish I could have had my blood family be there as support, too.”

The hand still resting on Mikleo’s shoulder squeezes. “I’m sorry. Truly. You haven’t deserved any of that.”

“None of us do,” says Mikleo. “So all of this kind of makes it hard for me to accept success when it does actually happen. And I just kind of wish that Michael was here to support me through this.”

“Of course you do. It’s understandable.”

A sigh escapes Mikleo’s lips, before he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. First time meeting and I’m telling you my life story.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” says Sorey, smiling. “I mean, this might be our first time meeting in _person,_ sure, but we’ve been friends for a long time already. It’s about time I learned more about you personally.”

“I suppose so.”

The two are silent for several moments. There is no longer a hand on Mikleo’s shoulder, the latter wishing it would return.

He is not necessarily in need of it. He simply enjoys having that touch linger on him.

“Have you thought about contacting him, telling him about what you’re doing?” asks Sorey eventually, breaking the silence. Mikleo hums.

“I have a few times. I just don’t know if it’s worth it. It’s already been six years since I left. I doubt he wants to hear off me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” says Sorey. The certainty in this voice causes Mikleo to avert his gaze to him, curious. “I haven’t talked about this online, because I feel like people might try and convince me not to do so. But I’ve slowly been getting back in touch with my dad over time.”

Mikleo’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really. Just a text here, text there. The odd phone call at times. Small things, just trying to reconnect.” Sorey is quiet for a moment, pondering over his words. “This might sound odd, but I don’t think he has meant to be so harsh to me. Mom’s death hit him just as hard as it hit me. He really did love her, after all. So in a way, when I told him that I like guys, I think he was scared. He probably didn’t want to lose me as well.”

Mikleo is silent as these words sink in. He can imagine it, especially if you’re not all that informed on those who are LGBT. Being as such is not as fun and as enjoyable as safe spaces online can make it out to be. It is frightening, worrying, and is a fight every single day in order to be accepted.

It brings Mikleo down enough knowing of this, yet he has never thought about how others might feel about it too. How much they may worry for your safety.

“I think all of what Michael has said can be similar to that,” he says. “He told me to not go down the art route because he was worried that I would struggle, like mother did. He didn’t accept my identity, likely because he was scared for my safety. A lot of it _could_ be fear.”

“Exactly. Which is why I think it would be great for you to reconnect.”

Mikleo purses his lips. He has thought many times about dialling Michael’s number, yet has never actually been convinced he could do so.

“Obviously, you don’t have to,” Sorey continues. “I just thought it might be what you want.”

“I think it is, deep down,” says Mikleo. “I probably just need some more time.”

Sorey smiles. “That’s normal. It’s okay for these things to take time.”

The smile, despite how many have been directed at Mikleo, cause a strange sense of nerves to rise in his chest when paired with that soft tone. He averts his gaze away, his fringe falling over his brow, shadowing his eyes. He wishes for the beating of his heart to calm.

Only there is no chance at all of it doing so when fingers are gently pushing the side strands of hair, straight and loose from his ponytail, out from his face. He turns to Sorey, the latter’s mouth open as though about to speak, although he is interrupted.

“Food is ready!” Rose exclaims, waltzing into the room with plates on each hand. The touch has already vanished from Mikleo, as though it had not been there in the first place.

“Dezel really did practically prepare a feast,” says Alisha, she too carrying plates; the man in question is behind her.

“Looks delicious!” Sorey exclaims. He faces Mikleo, beaming. “Let’s dig in, we deserve it!”

Mikleo agrees, eyes taking in all of the array of food on display.

He realises how much more he can accept his accomplishments now he has opened his heart up to Sorey. Allowing himself to bask in it as opposed to dwell on the past, he reaches for one of the fries on a plate, laughing along with Sorey and Alisha as Rose steals a plate away from Dezel.

It will only get better from here.


	6. Start of a New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their novel now complete, Sorey and Mikleo have met in person, where the sparks which have ignited over screens grow even brighter.
> 
> The end of their project will only bring on more beginnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to finish this chapter this morning to finish on time. I'm sure you don't want to be kept waiting up here, so I will let you get on with the story. Enjoy!

The energy in the centre is outstanding. There is laughter all around; chatter and ramblings about one’s favourite movie, show or game; people staring in awe at the products they’re ready to spill their entire wallets on. Friendships are forming between people who had once been complete strangers, and those which already exist are only strengthening more in this place of acceptance and joy.

Outside, the world is frozen in winter ice, people shivering from the wind as it blasts against their skin. In here, there is a warmth both physical and emotional. The day is a new beginning for some. It is a time of new experiences, and to feel pride in the accomplishments that have been made.

Wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, Sorey smiles as he leans back. It turns slightly guilty as he brings his eyes to Mikleo. “Sorry about making you dive in like this.”

Mikleo hums, covering his mouth as he chews his food. When he processes Sorey’s words, he shakes his head, swallowing before saying, “I mean, you’re a bit too big now for your first signings to be done at a book store. I knew already that you visit conventions first.”

“Bet you’ve already been to one already, haven’t you?” Rose teases, elbowing Mikleo’s side.

“Oh, yeah,” says Edna, subtly stealing one of Alisha’s fries when she’s not looking. “Meebo actually visits Sorey’s panels when he comes over to Hyland. He just always made sure to blend in with the crowd so there was zero chance of you seeing him.”

“All right, Edna,” says Mikleo, sighing.

“Well, now you’re here for the real deal, so there’s no reason for you to go hiding yourself away anymore,” says Eizen. He gently grabs Edna’s hand when she attempts to steal one more fry. This time, Alisha notices, and she brings her portion closer to herself, jokily glaring at Edna.

“I doubt you could have a very high chance of blending in anyway,” says Sorey, watching how Mikleo’s hair falls over his shoulders when he leans forward to eat.

He glances at Sorey. No sign of recognition. Sorey smiles at the obliviousness.

“You don’t have to go up on stage to answer questions if you don’t want to anyway, Mikleo,” says Dezel. “I personally stay far away. Not my thing.”

“What, after you shouted at that fan and almost got us kicked out?” says Rose.

“Why’d you do that?” asks Zaveid.

Dezel scratches the back of his head. “She was being persistent. Seems like one of _those_ types of fans, the one obsessed with making a fetish out of gay men.”

“Oh, I remember her,” says Mikleo, frowning.

“Meebo was getting ready to march on over,” says Edna.

“I can see why,” says Dezel. “Yeah, she was just trying to ask a lot of questions about Sorey’s personal life. It pissed me off.”

“Translation is that he cares a lot for you and hated to see you in that situation,” says Alisha, smiling with amusement at Sorey.

“But yeah, we have better measures in place now about questioning, and anyone who crosses lines will get escorted away,” says Rose, bringing her gaze to Mikleo. “So there’s nothing to worry about with that. Still, getting up there on a stage is nerve-wrecking, so we’d totally get it if you weren’t ready for that or anything.”

Mikleo shakes his head. “I appreciate the concern, but I think that I don’t want to miss out on the experience, really. I keep saying to myself that I’ve already come so far, so I might as well keep on pushing myself, right?”

Eizen smiles warmly. “You’ve definitely grown a lot. I still remember how much persuasion you needed to apply at all.”

“People change and all that! Often for the better,” says Zaveid, clapping Mikleo on the back, who smiles with a little shyness.

The group proceed to finish off their lunch, discussing the questions they may be asked and all the subjects they will talk about. The last several conventions they have attended were all fairly similar in terms of how their panel would go; each are looking forward to the differences a visual novel will bring.

Besides, this new world of Sorey’s feels the most important so far. It is the one he has connected to the most, found himself in his main character. A writer will create the best characters should they insert part of themselves into each they make.

This is the first time, however, that Sorey sees that he has put more than simply a fragment of himself in a character. He had never purposefully meant to make him as similar as he has. However, the more he has ventured further and further into this story, the more he has seen it. From the heroism and selflessness, to the smaller details such as typical mannerisms.

And somewhere along the way, the romantic interest of this character has become similar to Mikleo. This is the most surprising of all. After all, Sorey hadn’t known Mikleo even existed before this story began. It appears as though their growing relationship has managed to influence the secondary character Sorey has brought in.

This story means the world to him. He is excited to finally bring it to the world.

 

* * *

 

The cheers of the crowd are almost deafening. Clearly accustomed to such a thing, Sorey grins and waves as he, Mikleo, Alisha and Rose make it onto the stage. Lined up nearby are a set of chairs. Mikleo’s eyes, unable to even glance at the audience he knows are staring at them, are fixed on his own seat. Alisha, walking by his side, notices his nerves and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Rose is similar to Sorey in terms of confidence. She too waves, receiving an abundance of extra cheers as she does so; the crowd are clearly familiar with and adore Sorey’s assistant. She fixes the microphone attached to her shirt. Satisfied, she gives a thumbs up to a member of staff offstage.

“Thank you for joining us!” she shouts to the audience, receiving a cheer in response. “Please welcome Sorey Shepherd, Mikleo Rulay and our _lovely_ editor, Alisha Diphda! Oh, and me too.”

As though this stage is her very home, Rose settles herself straight into the chair which sits a little away from the other three. Sorey sits himself down also, smiling up at Mikleo with reassurance; he has become notably pale from nerves. Sitting down at the same time as him, Alisha rubs his upper arm gently as they do so. It allows him to release the breath he has been holding.

“It’s great to see so many of you guys could make it,” says Sorey, doing the same as Alisha once Mikleo has sat down. “I swear we get more and more attendees every time. Thank you!”

Alisha smiles at the audience. “I too thank you. It’s been wonderful seeing all of this grow for Sorey, someone who truly does deserve it.”

The reaction is immediate to these words; everyone in this room agrees.

“Now, we’re all here for the same reason; because Sorey’s gone ahead and released yet another book,” says Rose. She is handed this very book by a member of staff, holding it up in the air before placing it on her lap, vertically to allow everyone to see the cover. “I swear this guy _does_ sleep.”

“I make sure of it; he’s simply a very fast worker,” says Alisha, amused.

“That he is! So Sorey, obviously _I_ already know what this book is all about. None of _them_ do, though! And they’re bound to love it. So would you mind summarising it for us?”

Sorey smiles and nods. This alone causes a few people to cheer. “I decided to dive into a slightly darker fantasy world for this one. It focuses on the divide between humans and mages, where the latter has been taken control of by humans; they can even be labelled as slaves.”

“Yet there are those who rise against it, of course,” says Rose.

“Absolutely! You’ll all be meeting Verrill, a kind and pure-hearted warrior who fights back against his own people in order to help free mages from humans. He seems like a bit of a dork and can certainly be so at times, but he does have a mean streak too. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”

Rose hums. “Sounds a bit like a certain someone when I ate his serving of ice cream one time.” She allows the audience a moment to laugh before continuing. “It’s definitely a bit of a darker world than usual, isn’t it? Slavery is definitely a touchy subject to write, yet you’ve done it perfectly, I’ve gotta say. And of course, this wouldn’t be a Sorey novel without a romance which pierces all of us.”

Sorey shakes his head. His eyes drift to Mikleo for a moment, who has been silent yet listening attentively; he has lost himself in Sorey’s words, similarly to how he had done so when he was merely a fan.

“Eli is the mage he falls in love with along the way,” says Sorey. “Their tale doesn’t quite start out as nicely as I’ve written before. With his conscience sealed and no emotions or own will to speak of, Eli does no more than comply with orders to begin with. But though I won’t go spoiling everything that happens for you yet, I can assure you that there are much nicer days on the horizon for him and Verrill alike.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be a wonderful journey for everyone to read,” says Rose. She proceeds to grin, holding the book slightly higher. “Now, the thing that most people here have likely been waiting for … This novel stands out among the rest that you’ve made, and not just because you’ve gone for a darker story this time. Nope, this time you have a whole artist working alongside you!”

Cheers erupt, causing Mikleo to finally stare back at them. He swallows, nerves gripping at his chest; yet he also feels thrill spark as well. They cheer for _him_. They are grinning straight at him, wanting to hear _his_ words too, excited to see the role he has played.

“Yep, that’s him! Why not introduce yourself?”

“O-Oh, uh …” He swallows again, mentally encouraging himself in his mind; the smile Sorey gives him certainly helps. “I’m Mikleo, an illustrator from Hyland. I wasn’t going to apply for this position originally when I saw that Sorey had Tweeted about it, as up until now, I’ve severely lacked in confidence. But as you can see, my friends’ encouragement was successful, and I’m glad it was. Working on this project has been incredible.”

“And you do work perfectly together too, we can all agree on that,” says Rose. “You couldn’t have chosen better, truly! I’m sure they’re curious though, Sorey; what exactly made you decide to go down this route for a visual novel? And why now, with this plot idea?”

There is a moment’s pause as Sorey thinks of his answer. “I’ve considered this idea for a while. I see countless artists online who have these amazing, mature styles, with pieces seeming as though they could be photographs of another world. I realised how much that would suit my own writing. And I realised as well just how many of these artists are vastly underappreciated. I wanted to give one of them a chance.”

“Which lead to your advertisement on Twitter,” says Rose. Sorey nods.

“I wanted to find someone struggling and someone who is in the community too, so that they could truly bring out those experiences into their work. And when I thought of this plot, I didn’t even have to think twice about it. This was the one. I wanted _this_ world to be illustrated, for all the harshness and sorrow of that world to be right there on paper.”

“He called both Rose and I one morning practically shouting down the phone,” says Alisha, chuckling. “We knew there’d be no changing his mind; not that we would want to do so anyway.”

Instead, they had been the height of support that Sorey needs, excited as he is for bringing this world to life. Sorey’s words have always possessed enough quality to teleport those who read it into the world in which these words describe. They knew that illustrations of this new world will truly immerse the reader into the story, allow them to visit it through strokes of paint as well as written words.

Rose and Alisha also knew the world of good it would do for Sorey. He has received fanart from a number of artists online, every single one causing him to bounce with glee; even before this project, he has shown tremendous support to owners of this craft. They knew that his book being fully illustrated would bring a whole new array of satisfaction and passion to Sorey.

“I just had to see this for myself,” says Rose. She brings her attention back to Mikleo. “And I was the one who got the honour of interviewing our cherished artist here! Now Mikleo, we know that you weren’t going to apply at first … Aside from the encouragement from your friends, why did you apply? Everyone here can rest assured that it definitely wasn’t for fame. After all, your love pours straight into what you’ve done.”

Mikleo nods. He runs his fingers over his sweat-coated palms, grounding himself. He finds he feels less nervous to speak again when he brings his eyes to Sorey. Memories of his interview return to him.

“I simply adore Sorey’s work,” he finds himself saying. “I truly do. As I’m sure it has for many people, it helped to guide me through times where I had little other hope. His writing is incredible, truly. There’s something to it that I’ve never seen before.”

“Record this guys, he usually doesn’t talk about his feelings so openly,” says Rose, earning a laugh from Mikleo; she is able to push aside the nerves of those she speaks to as naturally as it is to breathe. “No but really, it’s great to have someone who is completely touched by Sorey’s work be the person who is illustrating for him. Trust me, it shows. I don’t think we would’ve achieved the same results if we had opened up a normal job application.”

Sorey smiles in agreement. “I agree completely. I couldn’t have chosen better than Mikleo.”

“Going slightly red-faced there, Mik,” Rose grins. “Which reminds me of a certain mage, once we start to see more of _him_ rather than the seal put on him. We’ve always talked to Sorey about the development of his characters in his writing, but how is that for _you?_ Were you able to perceive all these changes how you wanted?”

Mikleo nods. He is smiling fondly to himself, looking back to all the work he has done for Sorey over these months. “Absolutely. I put myself in the characters’ shoes, yet still found myself not really _trying_ to develop them. I understood them so well through Sorey’s writing and was able to see these subtle changes over time, so I never had to _try_ and make them seem different. It all happened naturally. It’s very rewarding to see them grow.”

“A little like how we saw you grow, too,” says Rose. The comment is only given a moment to sink in, the warmth in Mikleo’s chest returning, before she is continuing. “Ah, we don’t really have a huge amount of time left, so we should probably get to fan questions before we move onto some last details. Anyone got anything?”

Immediately, hands are shooting up in the air. Excitement can be written on everyone’s faces, even those who are not readying themselves to ask a question; they seem satisfied enough over the thought of letting those with them ask instead.

“All right … How about you?” asks Rose. “The blonde over there!”

The face of the girl in question brightens. “I um … Many of your stories are connected in some way. I was wondering how this one might connect to others, if any?”

“Good question!” Sorey exclaims. “The connections in this one are much more subtle than in the past, being as I wanted a fresh start with a new genre. However, there’s still a number of references which I encourage you to look out for! Depending on how well received this story is too, I’m thinking about making it a prequel …”

He grins as there is an eruption of cheers in response to his answer. His eyes navigate the crowd himself this time, picking out a man in the front row.

“How about you?” says Sorey.

“I have a question which all of you could probably answer,” says the man. “I was wondering how you guys felt working on this? Like with all the differences between this and your past novels, I imagine there might have been some struggles.”

“Oh, for sure,” says Sorey. “One thing I had to persistently keep in mind was how I couldn’t alter anything drastically. With writing, I can easily cut and paste scenes if needed, and it doesn’t take me as long to write a chapter as it does for Mikleo to draw even a single illustration. Usually I write in the flow, and I still did, but this time I had to be extra careful of loopholes and such so I didn’t accidentally put too much extra work on Mikleo.”

Alisha nods in agreement. “I had to help with this a few times, spotting things which have to be changed early, before Mikleo began his illustration for the chapter. I also had to team up with Dezel, our graphic designer, whereas I’m usually fine to edit on my own and send it to our publisher.”

“I mean, I’ve never worked on anything like this before,” says Mikleo. “But I had differences too. It’s been a unique experience having to persistently communicate with a writer to get it right for me.”

“As for me, I’m just the usual annoying person in the corner,” Rose finishes, causing everyone to laugh. “All right, how about you, with the blue hair?”

“I have a question for Mikleo alone!”

“Oh?” Mikleo says, averting his attention to her.

“How do you take care of your hair so well?”

“I—huh?”

“Your hair! It looks so soft, and I’ve ruined mine with bleach.”

“I uh, wasn’t expecting that,” Mikleo says, laughing. Doing so eases the last remaining fear from his chest. His fingers run through the strands settled over his shoulder. “Well, I wash it by only massaging shampoo into the roots and letting it run through it. Then I use conditioner on the ends, letting it settle in as I wash my body. I use a hair mask once a fortnight too … I actually have my stuff with me, so if you find me after this, I can show you what I use.”

“Hold on,” says Sorey, turning to Mikleo. “You’ve brought your conditioner to a convention?”

“I mean … I bring it everywhere.”

“But _why?”_

“Emergencies?” Mikleo reaches to Sorey without thinking, taking hold of one of the spikes. “Just because _you_ have hair which only requires you to run a hand through it in the morning, doesn’t mean I do. And it feels fine, too … We’re not all like that, you know.”

“Still, were you just going to go wash your hair in the restroom? Maybe do a face mask while you’re there, just give yourself a bit of a spa session?”

“Oh, shut up,” says Mikleo, rolling his eyes.

It is only when his hand has returned to him that he realises what he has done. The two have simply been friends for so long by now that these little things seem normal, despite how they’ve only seen each other a couple of times in person.

How glad he is that the audience are no longer able to ask questions about Sorey’s personal life, for they all do seem to be watching with curiosity. Still, they are trustworthy fans, ones who never make rumours over Sorey. They are soon distracted as Rose continues from where they left off.

It has been a world of fun. It’s a shame that it will end eventually.

 

* * *

 

Once the group have rehydrated themselves and their next section in the convention is prepared, they are soon off to a table together in order to give signings.

This is where people are able to grab their copy of a book a day before it is released in book stores and pre-orders online have been shipped. They cost more due to the signatures; if Sorey could have it his way, he’d give them for free, yet Rose knocks him over the head when he suggests this. She knows far more about the importance of profit than he does. Or at the very least, she ensures to prioritise it whilst Sorey focuses on the joy of his fans.

A great quantity of their panel audience has lined up. It’s to be expected, yet Mikleo still finds himself amazed. He himself had never managed to queue up in those lines, as much as he wanted to. The thought of meeting Sorey face-to-face was terrifying.

And here he is, signing his autograph next to Sorey’s in _their_ book. He is in another world. He has to be.

“Does it feel strange?” asks Sorey as Mikleo watches a fan walk away, hugging the book to her chest. Mikleo nods slowly.

“I mean, you’re probably used to this with me by now. But this in particular is mind-blowing.”

“Honestly, I still get like that too sometimes. It’s strange that people get excited over _my_ autograph.”

Sorey smiles at another fan who has come along. “Hey there, thanks for coming! What’s your name?”

“I’m—I’m Joe. It’s great to meet you, I’m a huge fan!”

“It’s great to meet you too!”

Sorey signs the front page of the book, handing it over to Mikleo, who smiles up at the fan himself.

“Thank you for coming,” he says, pressing the point of his pen on the paper.

“Of course! It’s been exciting to see Sorey work with you. I can’t wait to see what you do next!”

“Neither can I.”

The fans continue to stream in, Sorey and Mikleo building up a rhythm of signing and taking pictures with them. This rhythm is only broken when a certain fan comes along, as nervous as many of the other fans before her.

Only for the first time, her height of nerves is not mostly saved for Sorey.

“I have to admit, I didn’t know about you until Sorey announced that he’d be working with you,” says the fan, her hands shaking a little as she holds out the novel to Mikleo. “And I was a little frustrated when I heard about you, as I applied for the same thing and was naturally rejected. But then I saw your work and I understood.”

Mikleo’s pen is still against the paper, too stunned by the girl’s words to move it.

“I fell in love immediately and all my frustration went away. I was glad, really, because I knew that … that you’d be perfect to work with him. Really. And I’ve been a huge fan since then, and I take a lot of inspiration from you. I hope to be as good as you one day.”

Remaining silent, Mikleo processes her words. He is no longer a stranger to praise, yet is still unfamiliar to this in particular.

It isn’t until Sorey gently elbows his side that he is brought back to reality. He straightens up, transforming his open mouth of surprise to a smile which bears his teeth.

“Thank you for the compliments, it really does mean the world to me,” says Mikleo. “And I’m sure you’re talented enough already. Keep practising and work hard and you’ll get to where you want to be. Art is a journey after all; we never stop improving.”

“Thank you,” says the girl. She takes the book from Mikleo when he has finished signing it. “I’ll remember that. I’ll definitely do my best.”

Once a picture is taken with them both, the girl waves before bouncing away. They are able to see her hand reach to her face to wipe at her eyes as she walks away and joins with her friends.

“See?” says Sorey gently. “It’s not just me who appreciates you.”

Mikleo nods, the long strands of hair falling past his face hiding the way his eyes glisten. “I can see that.”

Not only this, but everything. He is no longer blind to the pride he deserves to feel over himself.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day passes quickly. Far too quickly, almost as though it is a blur. They do say time passes by faster when you’re having fun, and they are having the time of their lives.

As well as fulfilling what they have come here for, they do also take time to wander around the convention itself. It’s the perfect place for Sorey and Mikleo. They pore over the endless video games and movies they share a similar interest for and feel right at home in the artists’ alley, where they end up purchasing more independent novels and artwork than they should.

Eventually, the day reaches its end. Zaveid, Eizen and Edna have left sooner in order to take the time needed to travel back to Rayfalke. Meanwhile, the rest emerge from the centre into the cold outside, exhausted but over the moon nonetheless.

Before they go their separate ways, they thank each other, knowing that they wouldn’t have made it here without every person’s help.

Mikleo settles himself in the passenger seat of Sorey’s car. As Sorey starts the engine, Mikleo says, “Thanks for, uh, letting me stay over tonight. It’s made it easier than having to do all that and then take the train home as well.”

“It’s fine!” says Sorey, putting his arm on the back of his seat as he reverses out of his parking spot. “You’ve done a lot today, plus you wouldn’t get home until late. I thought it’d be easier to stop at my place when it’s not that long of a drive from the centre.”

Easier, yet also terrifying simultaneously. Mikleo watches the scenery out of the window rather than glance at Sorey. Their bodies relax as the heating finally settles in, fighting back against the winter cold.

Mikleo is relaxed enough to even chuckle at Sorey’s music. “One second it’s country, next it’s rock. I’m guessing you just can’t settle on a single thing.”

“Nope. I favour country, but I definitely couldn’t be satisfied with just _one_ genre. I mean, I’m pretty sure spontaneously deciding to write a visual novel kind of shows that!”

Smiling from amusement, Mikleo agrees, “Makes sense for you.”

The majority of the journey is silent. Silent, but peaceful. The night sky has long emerged above their heads, stars glistening amongst the blanket of darkness. Their pride over their accomplishments remains in their strong hearts, hope igniting over what will come next.

When the song changes to something a little less relaxing, both have the same thought of changing it. Their hands brush against each other as they reach to do the same thing.

It is Mikleo who shoots his hand back to himself first, mumbling an apology, although he feels comforted when he notices Sorey’s smile, even if he is unsure about why it is there.

Soon, the car pulls up outside of Sorey’s home. As Sorey steps out the car, he lets out a delighted laugh. Mikleo sees the cause when he is outside himself.

“Snow,” he says, reaching up his hand. A snowflake drops onto his hand. “Just a little, but still.”

“I thought we’d get rain and hail all winter,” says Sorey. “Watch the path, it looks a bit icy.”

They head up to the front door, sighing in relief over the warmth the indoors brings. They remove their shoes and coats, Mikleo stretching his arms above his head as he watches Sorey head in the direction of the kitchen.

“Just going to make some tea,” he explains. “Do you want any? You can go settle down if you want.”

“That’d be nice, thank you.”

Sorey smiles, disappearing through a doorway. Mikleo heads into the living room in the meantime. He settles down on the sofa, eyes averting to the coffee table. He reaches for the copy of the book which has been left there. He doesn’t need to stare at it anymore, not when he has already likely burned the cover of his own with how persistently he has inspected it, yet he still enjoys doing so even now.

His eyes shift to the room instead. During his first visit, he had been too nervous to _truly_ take in every part of it. Now he does so with appreciation for how perfect for Sorey it is. He imagines that if Sorey ends up even more popular, all these bookshelves will be placed in a whole personal library.

Mikleo’s head turns upwards when Sorey reaches his line of vision.

“Here you go,” says Sorey, handing Mikleo one of the steaming cups. “Watch it, it’s still pretty hot.”

“Thank you,” says Mikleo. He blows down onto the liquid before taking a sip.

“Finally, everything feels normal. Today was pretty wild, wasn’t it? I imagine it especially was for you.”

Mikleo nods, swallowing before he says, “Truly. It was weird being a guest rather than an attendee. And the signings …”

“Tell me about it,” says Sorey, leaning back against the sofa. “I could barely contain myself when I had my first one.”

“Barely? You didn’t. I heard that story about you spilling your water over a book you were signing out of nerves.”

Sorey groans, face heating up a little as he rubs the back of his neck. “God, don’t remind me! The amount of memes I had thrown at me, I swear.”

“At least it was simply a matter of grabbing another book.”

“Right? Imagine if they wanted me to sign something of one of a kind, like their grandma’s diary. I can’t even bear to think about it.”

Mikleo’s laughter brings a grin to Sorey’s face. “Still, I get it,” says Mikleo. “My hand was trembling so much that I’m surprised I even managed to keep the pen in it.”

“You did seem to grow more and more in confidence as the day went on, though,” says Sorey.

“I did. It was terrifying, but I got used to it eventually. It was fun.” Mikleo glances down at the cup in his hands. “Thanks for taking me along. I appreciate it a lot.”

“You don’t have to thank me, really.”

Their tea is quickly drained from how much they have to quench their thirst; even after such a packed day, there is still much to speak about. Their tiredness from the activity is not enough to prevent their constant stream of chatter.

After all, when ignoring their previous status as an idol and his fan, they truly are simply like any other pair of friends with the same interests. They are far more than a surface of popularity and productivity.

Eventually, as though unable to retaliate to Mikleo’s previous teasing, Sorey is bringing up a moment from their panel.

“I can’t believe that you really did actually have those on you,” says Sorey in disbelief. “Honestly. I couldn’t stop laughing when you genuinely showed her what conditioner you use.”

Mikleo lets out a sigh. “Yes yes, I’ve already got the picture. It’s thick hair, you know. I have to be careful with it.”

He freezes as Sorey scoops up some strands between his fingers. “Yeah, I know,” says Sorey. “It’s super soft, so I can tell!”

“Yeah … it is,” says Mikleo slowly, not properly comprehending his own words and voice. He struggles to do so when his heart is pounding in his ears.

Sorey drifts off into a silence too. His hand raises up, brushing Mikleo’s hair behind his ear. A slight smile remains, seemingly lost in what he is doing.

His eyes brim with an emotion that even Mikleo cannot deny.

Be it this sight, the gentle hand against his face or from how he is bursting with love and gratitude after how Sorey has given him even more today, Mikleo cannot know. He is not really sure of anything, aside from how his lips are now on Sorey’s.

Mikleo connects their lips with a butterfly’s delicacy. A little frightened, uncertain, yet with a desire to take the plunge regardless. It is also as fleeting as that frail life. For Mikleo is soon bringing himself back, before Sorey has even shown signs of reacting, the former’s eyes widening over his actions.

“Oh God,” he says quietly, staring at the expression of surprise on Sorey’s face. The colour of Mikleo’s cheeks are deepening. His hand reaches to his mouth. “Oh God. I’m sorry, I don’t even know what—”

His speaking comes to an abrupt stop as his hand is eased away from his mouth. A second to perceive this, before there are lips on his own again.

He is frozen. Unable to comprehend that he is being kissed, that _Sorey_ is the one who is kissing him, the man he has been convinced he has no chance at all with.

It is his body’s natural responses which allow him to react faster than his bewildered mind. He kisses back, eyes closed, wrapping his arms around Sorey’s neck in response to how the latter deepens the kiss.

This is meant to be. Exactly how the characters they have created fall for each other, they too have followed the same path. Sorey’s hands brushing through long strands, Mikleo’s arms tightening, their bodies pressing closer in a desperation for sensual intimacy; it is their own story, their own fantasy, as they lose themselves in a world saved only for each other.

Slowly, their lips part. With soft pants, Mikleo’s eyes slowly open, face lifting from the hand cupping his cheek. He meets Sorey’s own open eyes.

Love. So much love, proof that it isn’t only Mikleo who has deepened their bond through the screens which had once separated them.

“Just in case you couldn’t quite tell, you don’t have to apologise,” says Sorey. Mikleo laughs lightly.

“Somehow I managed to get that.”

Hands resting on Sorey’s cheeks, he brings him in for another kiss. He cannot help it. Yet Sorey does anything but mind, kissing Mikleo straight back. His hands glide across his waist, Mikleo across Sorey’s shoulders. All of it is new. Or at least, it is new when it comes to each other.

And considering they have not once felt as passionately as they do for one another, this is an experience which cannot be forgotten.

Mikleo gently eases Sorey back with a hand on his chest eventually. “I uh, maybe we should talk.”

Sorey laughs, rubbing his thumbs over Mikleo’s waist before letting go. “Maybe. Although really, I think we’ve already guessed how we feel about each other.”

“How long have you known?”

“It was when I was further into the romance of our novel. It made me imagine us in the same situation.” Sorey’s tone turns lighter, more teasing. “And you’ve probably had a crush on me for a while.”

He grins over Mikleo’s sigh. “All right, a little, yes. But I didn’t have _real_ feelings for you until later on.”

“And that was …?” asks Sorey, playing with a strand of hair by Mikleo’s face.

“On our Skype call.”

“And what moment?”

Mikleo rolls his eyes, but answers regardless. “When you called me beautiful.”

Sorey’s smile grows softer. Somehow, the simple kiss on Mikleo’s forehead causes his heart to leap more than their deeper kiss had done. “I mean, you _are_ beautiful, so I think it must have been pretty easy to get you to fall for me if all I had to do was say the truth.”

“Ugh. If I knew you were this cheesy, I wouldn’t have kissed you.” Still, a fingertip trails across Sorey’s chest. Mikleo’s eyes watch it in order to not have to focus on Sorey’s gaze. “So … So what now?”

“Well, I think taking you to dinner tomorrow would be a good place to start, right?”

Blinking, Mikleo can only stare at the dazzling smile he receives with these words. It lights up his entire face.

Yet Mikleo has come to realise how happy he is, all but for a single thing. Should he not solve that one part of his life, he may never truly be able to embrace the joy he has been granted. It will stay constant on his mind. Always there, always buzzing in his ear, never quite letting him rest.

“I can’t.”

“Oh.” Sorey forces a laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I wasn’t really expecting rejection, but―”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Mikleo exclaims hurriedly. “I want that. Really. But there’s something I have to do first. After that, I’d love to go with you.”

Sorey’s brightness returns. “Of course. Do whatever you need to.”

Mikleo nods, glancing at the phone which he has now removed from his pocket. “I need to call someone for now. Can I have a moment?”

With a nod, Sorey gets to his feet, scooping up the mugs as he does so. He seems to already know what it is that Mikleo wishes to solve first. “Take your time. I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

He waits for Sorey to leave before bringing up his contacts. He scrolls down slowly, thumb hovering over a single one he has never managed to delete. By now, he is not even sure if he has the right number. In the past, he used that as an excuse to not go through with this.

His spare hand clutches at the shirt resting on his chest. He is breathless.

He dials the number regardless and brings the phone to his ear.

One second … two seconds … three …

They continue to tick by, Mikleo unsure if there will even be an answer. His heart stops when the dialling is no more.

“Hey,” Mikleo says in response to the person’s greeting, unable to stop a shake in his voice. “It’s me … Ah, of course you wouldn’t recognise my voice, would you? It’s—It’s Mikleo.”

He brings his legs up to himself as an act of comfort in waiting for his response. His heart is in his mouth, his body overcome with a subtle, yet noticeable tremble. Breathe. _Breathe._

“I know. I didn’t know if I should call. Can—can I meet you? I think there’s a lot to talk about … Yeah. Of course … Sounds good. I—Thanks. I’ll see you later, then.”

As Mikleo’s arm drops to his side, he closes his eyes and leans back on the sofa. When they open, they are filled with tears; from his anxiety and fear or pure relief, he cannot know.

Either way, he is stepping forward.

 

* * *

 

Mikleo’s fingers tap against the warm cup in between his hands. He is too anxious to take a sip. It wouldn’t be surprising if his throat failed him if he tried.

He glances up at the time. Despite how it’s still only a few minutes now until the time he has arranged, his anxiety still tells him that the fact he remains alone is because he is being stood up. It would not be the first time he has been abandoned by family.

He breathes out deeply. His eyes dart to his phone as it vibrates. He smiles, because even if it isn’t quite who he had been hoping for, he still appreciates it nonetheless.

 

**Sorey**

‘ _I’m cheering for you. You’re stronger than you think and can do this ♥’_

 

Mikleo is not quite certain if this is true. Yet no one, not even him, can turn a blind eye to encouragement. It does make him feel a little better.

Even if the harsh beating of his heart is a physical representation of how much fear is inside it.

He glances up at the door when it opens. He does so without much expectation; he has stared at it every time it has made noise, each time opening up for a stranger rather than a person he knows. This time, he only does so out of habit, already questioning if he should give up on this.

That is why he sits bolt upright when he sees the familiar head of hair that matches his own.

The man is looking around, trying to spot Mikleo, who cannot blame him for not being to recognise Mikleo at a glance. So much has changed. _Everything_ has changed. Even Michael himself, his hair now almost reaching the base of his neck. Mikleo cannot see any further differences from this distance.

He realises he is on his feet, his body quicker than his mind and telling him to hurry and call his uncle over. So he does. He lifts his hand into the air, feeling awkward and fearful simultaneously as he waves the man over.

Eyes meet his. Mikleo cannot see them properly, but he doesn’t need to when he sees the same eyes when he looks into the mirror.

There is a pause. Processing, mild confusion most likely. And then he begins walking over.

“I—Mikleo?” says Michael.

Mikleo. The first time he has ever heard that name be uttered from that man. And it is before they have even had a conversation.

The arguments, the fights, the tears and harshness—it’s thrown away for even simply this moment as Mikleo runs over to him. His arms are thrown around Michael’s neck. As Mikleo buries his head into Michael’s shoulder, there are arms bringing him into a hug.

Eight years. Mikleo had never dared to hug this man again after their biggest fight of all at the young age of sixteen. Until now, when Mikleo can see _him,_ see that old love which he knows now never quite vanished, but rather became unclear when confusion and misunderstandings put a wall between them.

“I’m sorry,” Mikleo says into Michael’s shoulder, hiding away the tears which have been released. “I didn’t even try and get in touch. I’m sorry.”

Michael shakes his head. There is a hitch in his voice when he speaks, suggesting that he may be crying, too. “I’m the only one here who has to apologise. You’ve done nothing but try and get us back together.”

Mikleo grips on a little tighter. He has forgotten what it feels like to hold your family. He has his chosen family, his cherished friends who mean the world and beyond to him; yet those connected to him by blood have not been here by his side. It has felt like he has been left alone all this time, forced to find his own place to call home, to seek out companions who truly care for him.

Their embrace breaks eventually. Awkwardness steadily replaces the sheer joy which arises from reuniting with someone you once loved. However, this is not the case completely; Mikleo’s heart now beats from positive emotions. It beats because he is alive and is making the right choices with that life granted to him.

“We should probably sit down,” Mikleo suggests. Michael nods, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yeah, that’s probably best. Mind if I go grab a coffee first? Thinking about us meeting today made me stay up all night.”

So Mikleo has not been the only one wretched with anxiety over this. “Of course, I’ll be right here.”

Michael smiles. Genuine, unlike any smile Mikleo has seen from him in years. During the minutes it takes Michael to fetch his own drink, Mikleo is left pondering over all the questions he has to ask, the answers he will likely need for Michael’s own questions.

Or at least, this is what he should do. He is instead focusing on the joy muddled in mild confusion and wariness.

Michael returns before long, taking a seat opposite Mikleo. There is silence despite how both men have their mouths open. What can one say, after all, after six years of being apart with no communication whatsoever?

“There’s so much I have to say sorry for, so much that I have to explain, that I don’t even know where to start,” says Michael eventually.

“Yeah,” says Mikleo, “me too.”

“Then I guess what I have to say first of all is commenting on how much you’ve changed.”

Mikleo gives a slight smile. “Testosterone can do a lot, really.”

“I mean, yes, that’s part of it. When you said it was you on the phone, I was—let’s just say I was taken aback a bit. Not in a bad way, just … I was surprised.” Michael pauses for a moment. “But it’s not just that. It’s the way you carry yourself. You never had this much confidence when you lived with me. It only makes me all the more guilty that you couldn’t be yourself.”

“I mean, there’s other things which contribute to that,” says Mikleo. “But yeah. I could have never been this way if I didn’t do what I needed to do. It’s completely changed everything in my life for the better.”

“I can see that. Mikleo, I’m sorry. Really.” Michael looks down at his coffee up, fingers fiddling with it slightly. Exactly as Mikleo does; you would expect Michael to be his father, with how similar they can be. “I didn’t understand. And rather than learn to fight that ignorance and teach myself about you, I went against you instead out of fear.”

Mikleo hesitates to answer. “I mean … I wouldn’t lie and say it was awful for me. But I understand it more now, how it must have been for you, I mean. Back then, I didn’t really stop and think about how it must have been for you.”

“Which you shouldn’t have had to do.”

Despite how he would have agreed years ago, Mikleo shakes his head. “I’m not saying all responsibility was on me. You should have learned about me on your own as well. Yet back then, I made the mistake of wanting instant, perfect acceptance. I was too hurt and too frustrated over why I had to be this way to take a step back and realise that you do still love me, it’s just a difficult thing to accept. It wasn’t even as known back then.”

“This was clearly affecting you deeply. I should have let myself be more open and allowed you to express yourself.” Michael finally meets Mikleo’s eyes. “After you left, I had this period of feeling … empty. It was horrible, knowing that after losing Muse I had pushed you away as well. I was angry at myself. _Furious_ even, that I allowed myself to get to that point.

“I was afraid,” Michael continues. His eyebrows furrow. “I heard the stories and still hear them now. Transgender people being assaulted, even murdered for being who they are. I was terrified that something like that would happen to you. I didn’t want you to have to deal with everything that others have been through. I didn’t want you to return from a date with your face bruised and being left too scared to go out again.”

Michael’s voice cracks. Mikleo wishes he could reach over, comfort him, yet he finds his words are lodged in his throat.

It is just as he and Sorey spoke about. Mikleo has only ever thought about how these fears affect him. Of course, these worries have been on his mind constantly, even now he is years into his transition. Wondering how someone may react when you tell them, the piercing gazes over the scars on his chest, the fear he has from simply going to the bathroom … They are not his fears alone to bear. Rather, others have them too when concerned for your safety.

“That fear stopped you from calming down and learning more about who I am,” Mikleo murmurs. “And you were scared of the same thing happening to me as it did to mother, right?”

Michael nods. The back of his hand wipes at his eyes. “I’m not trying to justify what I’ve done by saying this. However, that and everything else combining made it impossible for me to accept. It wasn’t until about a year after you left that I finally felt like I could look into everything more. It took time, but I understood eventually. I realised that it’s not the same as you simply wanting to dress up as a tomboy or something like that.”

Mikleo shakes his head. He too had been through that questioning; he doesn’t hate Michael for doing the same. “I appreciate you looking into it. I … I like to imagine it means you’ve spent this time considering reconnecting, too.”

For several moments, Michael can only stare. He says, “Mikleo, of _course_ I’ve been thinking about that, and of you. As soon as I realised how much of a mistake I’ve made, I tried to reconnect. But … But I wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted. I thought I hurt you too much for us to bring back our relationship.”

Michael reaches for Mikleo’s hand on the table, placing his own on top. It wouldn’t have been long ago that Mikleo would have shot his hand away, should Michael attempt to touch him. It is a comfort now instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t try,” says Michael. “I’ve been a coward. I was even going to message you when I saw what you’re doing, but I didn’t want to ruin all the joy you seemed to be experiencing.”

“Wait, you know about all that?” asks Mikleo, his eyes widening. Michael’s smile is filled with both sadness and pride.

“I managed to find your page,” says Michael. “It’s been incredible watching you grow. You’re talented, Mikleo. Truly.”

Mikleo smiles, feeling his face flush slightly. “Thank you.”

“I’m only saying the truth. Then this whole visual novel thing … It’s amazing. I’ve heard a lot about that man’s work.”

“You do?” Mikleo asks, Michael nodding.

“I write myself occasionally, remember? Just as a hobby.”

Of course he does. In fact, it is this very hobby which helped spark Mikleo’s own interest in creativity. Mikleo had tested the waters of this world by writing himself, and though he does enjoy it and will do so occasionally, it helped him to find his even greater passion for art.

“And I ended up checking out LGBT authors, seeing if it could help strengthen my understanding for you,” says Michael. “Sorey was obviously one of the first ones I found. I imagine you’ve enjoyed working alongside him.”

Mikleo nods, his smile returning to his face. “I have. I’m looking forward to doing so again.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it. We have a lot to catch up on, after all. And I have to make up for all these years.”

“As do I,” Mikleo agrees. Because even if he has been reassured he is not in the wrong, there is still much he wants to teach Michael, to open up to him about. He clearly wants to know. He wants to be in Mikleo’s life, just as Mikleo wants to be in his in return.

Their relationship cannot be perfect right away. The wounds inflicted need time to heal. Yet this has began that process, put them on the right path; they have destroyed the wall which had previously ended their path together in order to continue down that long, but rewarding, road.

Eventually they part once they can bring themselves away from their conversation. They promise to speak again, for there is still much to talk about. And they leave almost as new men.

Mikleo is smiling as he brings his phone to his ear.

“I’ve done it,” he says after Sorey’s answers.

“ _Did it go well?”_

“I’d say so. I’ll give you the details if you’d like to take me to dinner sometime soon.”

“ _Then it’s a date, beautiful.”_

The call is soon to end. Mikleo glances up at the winter sun, realising now that the path he is taking is not linear. There are obstacles and junctions, many routes to take, and there is more than one he walks down. There are many different destinations for him to live for, the journey to reach them one to be cherished.

If he could speak to the teenager sobbing in his room, he would tell him that not everything will remain this way. In a few years, he will read the work of an author who will change his life. Through those words, he will realise he is not alone, that there is happiness waiting for him on the other side of his misery.

That he deserves a fulfilling and joyful life, too. One which he knows still has everything and more waiting to give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that wraps it up!
> 
> As previously mentioned, I've been lacking in feedback lately, mostly on Swear on Counted Stars. So the absolutely amazing support and wonderful compliments I've received on this has reminded me on why I write fanfiction at all alongside my original works. Thank you for the continuous support, I'm truly glad you enjoyed it.
> 
> And I hope that the messages I have put across in this fic have helped you. Remember that if you're ever struggling yourself with confidence, my DMs on my social media are always open. This fic is written from my heart, everything I've put in here from both perspectives meaning something to me, and I'm always willing to share those sentiments even away from this more creative approach.
> 
> This will be my last side chaptered piece for a while as I work on getting Swear on Counted Stars to its end and I prepare for the SorMik Big Bang, which I am both a writer and artist in. Please do keep an eye out for those SoCS updates however, as well as any oneshots. Thank you again!


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